Everything is Illuminated
by AllyrienDM
Summary: Season 4, post "I'll Be Seeing You". Zane has questions, Jo has answers, and he's sure it's just a matter of time. Not even the great Josefina Lupo can hold out forever.
1. Chapter 1

_Once upon a time_, Jo Lupo thought as she trudged away from Global Dynamics, long past dusk_, I had a job that allowed me to eat dinner sometime before 9:00 pm. Then again_, she thought ruefully, _once upon a time a night that ended by 11:00 was an early night._ She chuckled humorlessly to herself and tossed a stack of paperwork into the backseat. _I'm turning into an old woman, at twenty-eight. Maybe I should get a cat._ She'd had a lot of things, once upon a time. She sighed and turned the key in the ignition, half-expecting yet another hapless scientist to come out demanding some sort of arbitration – or retribution. It was hard to believe this job had once felt like a promotion. She'd gone from babysitting Carter to babysitting belligerent, self-satisfied scientists. At least when she was on Carter duty it was implicitly understood that she was a valuable team member and not a glorified _marriage counselor,_ of all things. The last thing she wanted to do was negotiate other peoples' relationships – right now, she'd had enough of relationships to last a lifetime.

She pulled into the parking behind Café Diem about fifteen minutes later, but rather than go inside she gave herself a moment, leaning against her car. Light flooded out of the cafe full of people and cut into the surrounding night, giving faint illumination to the relatively dark street. She took a deep breath and steeled herself for the people inside, knowing there was a distinct possibility she'd be accosted by the one person she wanted to avoid most – or worse, he'd be in there, too engrossed in the girl she loved like a sister to notice her entrance at all. Either possibility was nauseating.

Since she'd moved out from Carter's and into her new house, they hadn't had much opportunity to talk – and they'd been avoiding the topic of Zoe whenever possible since long before she'd left. She had no idea where Zoe might be right now.

She tried to slip through the door quietly, and slink in without attracting any attention, but Vincent (damn him) had rigged the door with an electronic bell so he would never risk missing any of the best gossip. True to form, his head shot up like a jack-in-the-box from rummaging behind the counter.

"Jo!" he enthused, much louder than she would have liked, and across the room, the ears of a certain blue-eyed scientist and sometime felon perked. Jo cringed and took a seat at the bar, feeling a certain degree of queasy anxiety establish itself.

"Vincent…hi," She said, unenthusiastically, eyes already sliding back in the direction of her exit route.

"What'll it be this evening? The special tonight is curry with shrimp! Have I got a taker?" Jo shook her head. Her stomach was twisted into knots badly enough as it was. God, she was going to give herself an ulcer at this rate. Perhaps she already had.

"I think I'll have to settle for a baked potato and a salad, Vince." She replied.

"And a cup of your usual?" he asked.

"No," she sighed, and Vincent raised his eyebrows. "A cup of ouzo right now would only put me to sleep on the drive home, and that's the last thing GD needs. Just tea, please. Peppermint." Vincent gave her an odd look, but nodded and bustled off to the next customer. Jo fiddled with the salt and pepper shakers while she waited for her meal, but it had only been a few minutes when she felt a familiar presence hovering behind her and stiffened. Zane stepped to her side and took a seat at the stool next to hers with a familiar smirk.

"Long time, no see, Jo-Jo." He drawled.

"Not nearly long enough," she muttered, and refused to look him in the eye. It had been nearly a week since she'd last made that mistake and she had been avoiding him with near fanatical determination ever since. As she stared determinedly at the counter, Vincent slipped a plate in front of her and fled the scene, posthaste. Curious he might be, but he and just about every other inhabitant of Eureka had long since learned that when Jo and Zane were at war, it was best to keep a safe distance and avoid the fallout.

Zane took advantage of the distraction to slide his stool just a half-foot closer. Unfortunately for Jo, Zane's learning curve was just as good, if not better, than most of Eureka. Rather than take Jo's pointed avoidance as an answer, he'd quickly learned that persistence was the path to his goal – whatever that might be at any given moment. At the moment, his goal was her attention, so as Jo began a half-hearted excavation of her baked potato, he lowered his voice and began his latest phase of attack, one which had been inevitable after that revelation of a kiss in Carter's office.

"So," he started again, "If I remember, when we last… spoke, there was something you were going to explain to me." He smiled wickedly. "Not that I was opposed to a little show and tell."

"Go to hell," she muttered at her plate.

"Jo-Jo," he said, in sing-song tones. "Come on now, Jo-Jo, don't be like that," and now his fingers ghosted lightly across her waist. Jo sucked in a sudden breath and closed her eyes, her last bite of potato now seeming utterly tasteless in her mouth. She swallowed with sudden difficulty, and was grateful she had once Zane's fingers began tracing feather-light patterns on her skin, causing her to choke on her own breath. "Ah," he said smugly. "I think you may be paying attention after all." His hand slid from her mid-back, down to her waist, and he was playing a dangerous game because next thing she knew, his hand was on her thigh, caressing gently.

He leaned forward, "You know, this would all be easier if you would just tell me, Jo-Jo," he murmured. "We both know what you want." There was no hesitation evident in his movements, and Jo thought faintly that this was the trouble with deceiving geniuses. He had, no doubt, sussed out that if she'd been planning on tasing him over this, she would have done so a week ago, in Carter's office. Her traitorous body kept giving her away, she thought ruefully. Even Jo had realized not long thereafter that her will to resist him had dwindled to almost nonexistent, and from then on she'd been pointedly avoiding him. But now his hand was stroking and massaging her thigh with no little skill, and, to her complete mortification she realized she'd just made a breathy little sigh, which for her was about a heartbeat away from a moan.

She had completely forgotten about her food, at this point – it was probably cold by now anyway – and she made the mistake of looking up.

His eyes were dark, like the sea in a storm – a look she remembered well – and she felt a sudden rush of satisfaction when she recognized that, whatever his original motives, he was no more immune to what lay between them than she was.

"Jo," he finally said, sounding a little strangled, and just like that the spell was broken, and she remembered where they were, and cold reality began to sink in - _people would notice_, and she was frozen, because she couldn't bring herself to stop him, but she knew she couldn't respond either. It was starting to feel hard to breathe, and she felt lightheaded, and with alarming clarity she realized that if she did not get up _right now_, she was going to be ill in the middle of the crowded café. She stumbled off the stool and fled for the bathroom, leaving Zane behind to stew in his puzzlement at what reaction, exactly, he had just provoked in her.

She burst into the stall and was incredibly thankful that she kept her hair up in a practical ponytail, because the door had barely shut behind her when she started retching, losing most of her meals for the day and then some. When she was finally finished, she flushed and collapsed, boneless, against the cool wall of the bathroom stall, and wanted nothing more than to go to sleep, right there on the floor, and deal with the aftermath some other day. Still, the lingering scent was more than enough to turn her now empty stomach, and with reluctance she cleaned up what mess there was and rinsed her mouth in the sink, eying the door with apprehension.

Finally she mustered up the courage to step through the door and passed through the hallway back into the café. A wave of relief passed through her when she realized that Zane had gone, followed by the slightest taint of disappointment, and she thought fleetingly that it was not entirely inconceivable that just a month ago, Zane would have been holding back her hair, perhaps rubbing her back… she and Zane had done more than their share of sickbed duty, living in the zone of constant chaos that was Eureka. It was remarkable, really, that their relationship had survived the steady stream of disasters at all. With the exception, of course, of this one – without which she would no doubt never have actually become stressed to the point of illness in the first place.

"Vincent, I'm going to have to bring this home, after all." She said, regretfully. Vincent gave her a calculating look, but handed her take-out containers just the same.

"Well have a good night!" he called after her. _Doubtful, _she thought, but called back "You too!" just the same, and headed to her car. And if a part of her was disappointed that Zane – any Zane – wasn't waiting for her – well, she certainly wasn't about to acknowledge it. She returned home, resolute in her decision to firstly, get some rest, and secondly, forget all about Zane.

It wasn't until hours later, long after packing away her leftovers, and much later than she had intended to go sleep, that she thought of Zane again. For once, it started as a pleasant thought as she absently brushed her hair, running through her typical routine of one hundred strokes every night. Lately, this routine felt like the most stable thing in her life. It was, after all, something she'd picked up from her childhood habit of sitting on her father's knee and having him brush her already long, dark hair. Even long after their routine had faded away, the fond memories and the habit remained. It was one of the first quirks Zane had noticed about her after the first few times he stayed over her house – every night, she'd settle down with her hairbrush. One evening, he'd realized she was actually counting each stroke of the brush through her hair, and hadn't been able to resist satisfying his own curiosity. It was only a few months later that she'd allowed him to pick up the tradition himself. It had been one of the first ways she'd cautiously begun to let him in. Now was just one more way he'd managed to squirm in through the chinks in her usually impeccable armor.

She continued to brush her hair absently as she remembered the last night in which she'd sat in bed while Zane slowly ran the brush through her hair stroke by stroke. It would have been perhaps a little more than a month ago… the night before he proposed, and everything had fallen to pieces. Did he already have the ring from his grandmother, she wondered, and where on earth had he been hiding the lingerie box – surely it wasn't one of the boxes left over from the original delivery? Had he been thinking about it that night, while they were together? Had he been just a little bit more tender, or attentive, than usual? It'd been a week since they'd had sex last, she thought, because she distinctly remembered making some kind of protest about how she needed to get up early for her Founder's Day duties, and he'd taunted her into his way of thinking: _'Come on, Jo-Jo… haven't you missed me, just a little?' He'd breathed into her ear and toyed with the elastic of the boy shorts she'd been wearing to sleep, knowing perfectly well how hard it would be for her to say no to him__**.**_

She smiled faintly at the memory and put down the brush, looking in the mirror and wondering how it could have happened that she'd gone from that idyllic evening, to fleeing his near-perfect replica's advances and losing her stomach in the public bathroom at Café Diem. She'd never thought before that she was the kind of woman who gave someone so much power over her. Once upon a time she'd thought the only thing that could make her stop in her tracks was debilitating injury – perhaps the only time her body won out over her own determination. Something like a bullet in the chest, or near death by electrocution, that was what she expected to hold her back from what needed to be done. She'd certainly never let herself lose control enough that someone else could make her physically ill.

Well, perhaps the issue _was _her body, after all. She hadn't been feeling anything like feverish, but… she hadn't exactly been attentive to things, lately. She grabbed a thermometer, shaking her head. It could be any number of things, the flu, food poisoning – an actual poisoning, which she wouldn't put past the scientists she'd been handling, day in and day out. She glanced at the thermometer. 98.5°.Normal. Perfect, even_._ Then a stray thought flitted through her mind, and she almost rejected it out of hand, until she considered her uncharacteristic reaction to Zane's advances. Now that she'd regained a little clarity and control, she heartily wished she'd shot the smug bastard.The very thought was absurd, and she really wanted to dismiss this out of hand, but now that she began to consider it, she was starting to feel afraid in a way she hadn't since she'd first arrived from 1947. Then, she had been panicked, and rightly so, over Zane. But now… in a daze, she replaced the thermometer and went to look at the calendar in her office. It'd been about nine weeks since Founder's Day. Her heart jumped into her throat, but she forced herself to stay calm. It was entirely unlikely, after all, but she'd just go test it herself – just in case – and then she'd have an answer, and she could write the whole thing off. Jo returned to her kitchen on autopilot and grabbed the car keys. Sleep would just have to wait.

Disclaimer: I do not own Eureka, and if I did, trust me, it would not be limited to summer seasons. Nor do I own the title "Everything is Illuminated." I just chose it because it sounds nice and seemed apropos.

Happy reading, folks.

EDIT: 11/1/10 – I finally decided on a decent timeline for this story so I've tweaked this chapter almost imperceptibly.


	2. Chapter 2

Everything is Illuminated

It was just after dawn on a Saturday morning, the day Josefina Lupo deliberately barreled into Zane's home and life after a week of pointed avoidance, followed by an evening encounter even more perplexing than when he'd last gotten under her skin in Carter's office the week before. In spite of all his theorizing, posturing, and, yes, occasional soul-searching, he found himself surprisingly unprepared. Besides which, it was barely five am and even the most brilliant of former felons have their limitations. He blinked, and blinked again.

"What – Lupo, what are you _doing_ here?" He belatedly noticed her hand on his shoulder – had she actually shaken him awake? Throughout the week she had been avoiding any and all physical contact as if his skin might actually scald her, and last night she'd burned both hot and cold until he'd all but given up on making sense of her behavior. What he did know was that last night, the both of them had been like addicts desperate for their next hit – until they had both fled. With that thought, it was as if her hand was burning her mark into his shoulder. With effort, he rallied his very best smirk. "I was starting to think you'd never see it my way, Jo-Jo." Then a thought occurred to his gradually awakening mind.

"Wait, how did you get in here?" She'd have to know the trick to the lock – _nobody_ knew the trick to the lock, aside from him. Once upon a time, long before her promotion to Head of Security, it had driven a certain Deputy Lupo _crazy_ to know he'd turned his home into something of an impenetrable fortress. That made yet another piece of evidence pointing to the not only improbable but supposedly impossible theory he'd been constructing. Lupo ignored him, stood up and paced, and the loss of her hand was an unexpected disappointment. He eyed her and once more catalogued the irregularities, something that had lately become a new but necessary habit for handling her. She was frazzled, he concluded. Her usually impeccably tamed hair – her one vanity, he had long suspected – was in disarray. Strands hung loose, framing her face. She wasn't in her business clothes, which was unusual – generally she took the time to look official before she had him tossed into jail. She whirled back toward him, running a hand over her already untamed locks, and he saw with a narrowing of his eyes that she was worrying her lower lip between her teeth, which, he thought immediately, was a pity, as he could think of a number of better uses –

"I need your help, Zane." She finally said, slumping against the wall by his bed and locking her eyes on him, and he lost all thoughts of pulling her onto said bed and helping her reconsider her egregious treatment of such excellent lips when he got a good look at her face.

There was no preparing for a look like this in Lupo's eyes: that was damn sure. In the last few weeks he'd seen anger, depression, maybe even resignation, and other things he hadn't dared put words to yet that never failed to shoot an unexpected warmth through his frame – but this was _desperation_, verging on the manic. Her already dark brown eyes were framed by darkened skin, bruised by a lack of sleep, and the whites of her eyes had distinctly bloodshot overtones to them.

"Lupo," he asked, incredulity coloring his voice. "have you been _crying_?" It might not be featured in the town bylaws, exactly – which after the first few bouts with Lupo he'd set to memory – but the one constant he'd known throughout his time in Eureka was that nothing fazed Josefina Lupo. She glanced away and sighed,

"It doesn't matter. Look, you've been… pestering me for weeks. You have questions and I have the answers, at least some of them, and it's clearly annoying you _almost_ as much as it's annoying me. This is what you wanted, isn't it? I can give you those answers. But I'll need your help. This is serious, Zane. Don't you think we would have _told_ you already if it wasn't?"

He didn't, actually, or at least he wouldn't have, before, but… things had changed. She gazed at him steadily now, and he thought he saw the taint of defeat join the desperation in her eyes. Zane knit his brows together, deep in thought, and ran through lightning-fast analyses as the clock ticked. Lupo, having said her piece, was leaning with her head against the wall, looking very much as if the wall was all that kept her standing. With a flash of alarm, he recognized this was almost certainly his only chance to get what he wanted – needed, even – to hear from Lupo. Making up his mind, he rolled over and stretched, folding his arms behind his head and smirking. Immediately Lupo's eyes flickered to his bare chest and skittered away.

"Well then, Lupo, we haven't got all day. I didn't expect to have this conversation in my boxers, but I suppose duty calls." He patted a spot on the bed next to him. "Don't you want to sit down?" He suggested, nonchalant, and watched in amusement as she gritted her teeth. Then to his surprise Lupo crossed the room and perched on the end of the bed. The far end, of the far side - but this was perhaps the first concession she'd given of her own accord. It was also probably a mistake. She studied her hands and sighed, and her body drooped as if all her remaining energy had gone in that same _whoosh_ of breath.

"What do you know about the founding of Eureka?" she said, suddenly; and this was not exactly the direction in which Zane had expected conversation to turn. It was his turn to study her warily,

"It had something to do with Einstein?" he suggested. She half-smiled.

"He founded Eureka, in 1947, with Dr. Trevor Grant." She responded, watching him as if expecting something, and Zane was beginning to feel a little ill.

"I don't suppose this Trevor Grant would be related to a certain Dr. Charles Grant, until very recently of Eureka?"

"One and the same," Lupo said slowly, holding his gaze steadily, and he was drawn in by the raw honesty in her eyes until he was jolted abruptly back to the present when he processed the words.

"You actually – "he blurted, but she cut him off.

"_Don't!_" she hissed. "Don't even sayit!" He raised his eyebrows, but took her point. This was Eureka, after all. You never knew who might be listening. Any other day and _he_ might be the one eavesdropping, for that matter.

"Why, Jo-Jo, have you been bugging my bedroom?" He teased, but his normally dancing blue eyes were dark and serious.

"_Zane,_" she said, exasperated, but he cut her off as his spinning mind was starting to see exactly where this was going, and if he was right – it didn't look pretty.

"The Wells protocol," he said slowly, and started to feel real fear. What they'd done, it – it was serious. This was dangerous and the punishment was very, very irreversible. And he suddenly understood Jo's bizarre behavior, the strange dichotomy between her desire for him – which, he was sure, was entirely real – and her reluctance to act upon it, which only a week ago had been the prevailing force. It was no wonder she'd fled last night. But then why – ?

"Yes," she whispered, and glanced at the door. "But Zane, you _cannot_ tell anyone, do you understand, they would have us sanctioned – maybe you too – and that would be the last anyone would see of us – "

"My turn, Jo-Jo, and this time you're going to answer my questions, since you seem to want my help so badly." He was bluffing, of course, but the one thing Zane knew he could count on was that even now, changed as she was, Lupo was never quite sure he could be trusted. The glare Lupo leveled on him could have melted glaciers, but he was well enough accustomed to **that** in this – what was it, altered timeline? Really? – that he was very nearly immune.

"So," he said, quirking an eyebrow. "Just you, Carter, Allison, Fargo, and Henry, right? And that Grant guy was some kind of hanger-on?"

"Yes," she muttered, and it was clear she had resigned herself to the inevitable. She was looking away from him, towards the open doorway as if she were heartily wishing to be somewhere, anywhere else. Zane suspected that was, in fact, exactly what she was thinking, so he contrived for something requiring more than a monosyllable in response.

"I _knew_ there was something up with that guy!" he crowed.

"Yeah, yeah, you're a god amongst mortals, I get the message." She snarked back at him.

"How'd you manage it?" He leaned forward, forgetting about the deeper implications for the moment and savoring the scientific puzzle. _Time_ travel, of all things. It was supposed to be completely impossible! He'd known it had to be something off the charts, even for Eureka, but this - "It must have been on Founder's Day, while I was locked in a jail cell for your convenience." He theorized. "That's when you started to go crazy on me." Lupo snorted.

"You know well enough that _I _didn't lock you in there, so forgive me if I'm not wracked with guilt, Zane. And nothing about you has ever been _convenient._" He couldn't decide whether that was a blow or a boost to his pride, but at least he had spurred her into an explanation. "There was this old device the town had brought out for Founder's Day – called a bridge device," she continued, "and Kevin started fiddling with it. It interfaced with our cell phones somehow – _don't_ give me that face, Zane, you know I'm not even close to being a scientist, ask Henry if you need to know so badly." She scolded him.

"What face?" Zane asked, puzzled. Lupo rolled her eyes.

"Your classic 'I'm going to need every last scientific detail, please,' face, I've been seeing it for years, and for the thousandth time you really ought to know better – " she fell silent, suddenly, and he realized that this was an argument she had made so many times she knew it nearly word for word. Suddenly he was at a loss for words, himself, but it did raise the question she had no doubt been hoping to avoid, and he found himself blurting it out –

"How long?" he asked, and she looked like a deer caught in headlights. Unlike most deer, Lupo tried to dodge.

"What do you mean, how long?"

"You know exactly what I mean, Jo." He bit back. "How _long_ were we together?" Lupo looked down at her hands, which had been worrying and twisting the quilt. She looked as strained as the quilt as she let it go and smoothed it out, and something inside him wrenched unexpectedly. But he needed to know.

"About a year and a half, give or take," she muttered, tracing the pattern on the quilt, and he found he was inching toward her.

"Well? Which is it? Give or take?" he asked, more gently but the force, the impetus to know remained. She sighed.

"Give, I suppose." And he eyed her.

"So more like two years, then." He predicted. She bit her lip and didn't respond, and he found himself looking away from her, this time. Two years was – a long time in a relationship, especially for him. He wasn't sure he liked the idea that there were two years of time that he'd lost – never had – couldn't remember – and it was strangely disappointing to think he'd lost out on two years of Lupo. Two years of chemistry like what they'd had in the sheriff's office – it was almost impossible to imagine, and he couldn't help wondering what had gone wrong, that he'd missed that. He looked at Lupo – Jo, because suddenly it was hard to imagine her any other way - and cleared his throat.

"So, I – I assume there are other differences and the universe does not, in fact, revolve around… us." Jo looked unsurprised by the question.

"Fargo was never head of GD. Allison was, actually. Fargo was mostly just a pain in the neck."

Zane interrupted, "Well that certainly explains the sudden turn around."

" – Kevin was autistic – " Zane merely raised his eyebrows.

" – Henry and Grace barely even knew each other, I was still Carter's deputy – "

"Huh."

" – and Carter and Tess had already split up when it happened."

"Huh," he repeated, and she looked up at him, annoyed by his sudden non-responsiveness, and she realized that in her distraction he'd managed to inch closer and closer. He took one last scoot closer and suddenly, despite her best efforts, she'd found herself in the danger zone. Zane could see the recognition in her eyes and found himself biting back an ill-timed smirk. He'd freely admit that a week ago, kissing her had been an impulse, for which the payoff had been substantial. He'd already known something was up, had been given a good idea what it was – he wasn't dumb, how could he possibly miss it, between her rant and an engagement ring identical in every way to his grandmother's? But his next move would require a little more finesse. It was a little bit like learning to hack all over again, but back then the risks hadn't felt nearly as high. One wrong move now could be the end of it – whatever 'it' between them was. That, he suspected, might be worse than the prison terms he'd once been promised. Not to mention – knowing Jo Lupo – one wrong move could just as easily be the end of _him_.

Jo swallowed deeply and opened her mouth to speak, but Zane thought it better not to give her the chance, and took the opening she had unwittingly created. He wanted to hear that breathy little sigh again, the one he'd heard in the café the night before. In one fell swoop, he was cradling the back of her head and his mouth was on hers and they were both lost in each other. A week ago, kissing Josefina Lupo had been a revelation, and watching her melt into his touch last night had been – heady, to say the least. Now, kissing her was more like being enveloped in living flame, and he wanted to explore and give and take until he knew every contour of every molecule in her body, down to her very marrow. In an instant he felt fiercely jealous of himself, which was certainly the most counterintuitive and ludicrous thought he had ever entertained but he desperately needed to know her now in the same way she clearly knew him, because even as he was delving into his first real exploration, her hands were wandering with frightening perception. In seconds the kiss had deepened and Zane was now on his back, as Jo had forgotten all about keeping her distance and was instead clinging to him with his sheets tangled between them, running her hands wherever she could reach, lost in sensations she'd truly feared she might never feel again – her hands alternating between his chest, peppered with hair, and his smooth, bare shoulders, trying to eliminate every inch between them.

And then Jo remembered what it was she still had to tell him, and froze. Zane pulled back, running his hand through her now hopelessly tousled hair one last time but refusing to move away from such a prime location, instead using his hand to trace patterns on her back as they reoriented themselves, breathing heavily. They were both on the bed now, both horizontal, which was precisely what Jo had belatedly realized she risked by storming into his room, and though it was still early in Eureka, time had by no means stopped.

"Now, was that so awful?" Zane murmured with the hint of a smile, which faded as he studied her face. If anything, it was more desperate than it had been an hour ago, and he saw a hint of actual tears in her eyes. "Jo?" She turned on her back, forcing him to pull his arm out from under her.

"I haven't told you everything," she said quietly, staring at the ceiling as if it held the secrets to the universe. At this rate, Zane suspected, the ceiling might actually be more forthcoming. And then Jo finally came out and said it, and his heart skipped a beat.

"Zane, I'm pregnant."

A/N: If any of you watch Warehouse 13 (which I know is probably the case), know that I mean nothing in particular by calling it the Wells protocol, other than that the McFly protocol has been taken elsewhere. ;) I feel obligated to point out that the time travel rules of thumb in Warehouse 13 completely contradict the time travel rules of Eureka, which after the crossover episode happened became annoying; however, the general argument is probably something along the line of there is a distinction between a Warehouse 13 artifact and a scientifically based time traveling device. This is also annoying given that Wells' machine was an artifact and therefore the doctrine doesn't really fit… but on the other hand I suppose you could look at it as H.G. Wells attempted to change time, which made her very dangerous, and the DOD doesn't want anyone attempting to change time again and doesn't much care how they go about trying it.

I know this may not be _exactly_ the direction you expected things to go – at least not right away – but have faith. There is method to this madness. There is… Plot.


	3. Chapter 3

Everything is Illuminated

_And then Jo finally came out and said it, and his heart skipped a beat._

"_Zane, I'm pregnant."_

* * *

Zane shot up in the bed, working his jaw soundlessly and in spite of herself, Jo felt a flash of satisfaction, which she hastily suppressed. This was the first time in _any_ timeline that she'd manage to render Zane speechless. She knew him well enough to realize it wouldn't last.

"I – you – we – " He floundered for words, and, though it wasn't terribly kind, she was enjoying having the upper hand for once.

"Funny," she said archly, folding her arms behind her head. "You seemed _very _interested last night."

"You're enjoying this, aren't you," he muttered, still feeling as if he'd taken a hit to his solar plexus. "Some things never change." Jo's expression clouded over. If only that were the case. Zane watched her intently, his mind still reeling. A baby? A baby. Lupo was going to have a baby. Lupo – Zane swallowed deeply, feeling dizzy – Lupo was having _his_ baby, and they were engaged, and he couldn't remember any of it. A little aggravation rose in him at the thought. How could she not have _told _him?

"God, Jo – how long have you _known_?" Jo looked at him, startled. "I only found out last night," she said, frowning. "After I left Café Diem." _Oh._ He really _had_ made her sick last night.

"I'm sorry," he said, surprising himself.

"Wait – what?" she responded, thrown off guard.

"For making you sick," he elaborated. "Last night." Apparently he was responsible for even more than he'd imagined, he mused. Jo dismissed it out of hand.

"I'm sure there would have been one thing or another." He nodded absentmindedly, and Jo took a deep breath and sat up. There was more that needed to be said, and he deserved to have her looking him in the eyes when she said it. "Zane… I can't keep a pregnancy secret for long." She pointed out. "There are too many ways people can figure it out, especially here in Eureka." At least she'd been able to tell Zane before someone else figured it out for her. Even now, Jo was dreading the moment the inevitable came out. Last night, rather than approach Allison, she'd driven forty-five minutes out of town to the nearest pharmacy in order to receive the news which had sent her tailspinning to Zane's bedroom after hours of panicked deliberation. All the same, she knew she'd need to have Allison check her over soon enough.

"All you need to do is go visit Carter and S.A.R.A.H. will have it all over town by the end of the day." Zane snarked in agreement. Jo eyed him, expecting he'd reach the same conclusion she had – and if his reaction was anything like hers had been, it wouldn't be pretty.

"Zane – in a town like this it would be _child's play _for someone with a grudge or an agenda to run a DNA test and compare it to current residents," she prompted. "All it takes is one disgruntled scientist and the whole town will know. And you probably know better than I do how many people there are in this town who'd like to take me down a peg." Zane shot a look at her.

"How tough for you, to admit you'd been knocked up by the town felon," he said dryly, missing her point entirely. She narrowed her eyes at him. Was he being deliberately obtuse or did he really not see what a problem that was?

"Tough as it may be on me, I suspect it'll be nearly impossible for a town full of people who think we hate each other," She shot back, losing her patience.

"Why, how could they possibly think such a thing, Jo-Jo?" he drawled, but looked thoughtful. She could almost hear the cogs whirring in his head. "I have a feeling I won't like where you're going with this, Jo." He said slowly. She couldn't bring herself to look him in the eye.

"Zane, if anyone found out about the changes to the timeline… we could be in serious trouble." She said quietly. "We could be sanctioned. A child who was technically never conceived – "she closed her eyes, trying to ward off the thought of anyone doing that to a child, her child, _Zane's_ child – which felt in so many ways like the only piece of him left. "The DOD would never stand for that." She finished. "There needs to be a story, one as airtight as we can make it… the baby needs it. I want – I need – to be sure that the baby is safe." She said, squaring her shoulders. He watched her with dark eyes, waiting for the other shoe to drop. "We need to convince everyone that we've been secretly involved, at least since the baby was conceived. Dark corners, closets, whatever sordid story it takes – but they need to believe it." She looked at him with pleading eyes, and he stiffened.

"Jo… we have to at least tell Zoe. Maybe I wasn't serious about her, but I wasn't trying to _crush_ her, either." Jo made herself look him in the eye. After she'd returned from the pharmacy, shell-shocked, she'd been up all night pacing her living room, and had reached a conclusion that had left her feeling like the scum of the earth. Her instinct was that Zane would take it at least as well as she had: which is to say, badly.

"We can't, Zane. Zoe doesn't know anything happened and it needs to stay that way. The less involved she is in this, the better. She's the next person they'd look to after finding us. She – she's not going to like it, but…" Jo took a deep breath, "it's for her own good. If we tell her, and things go wrong," which wasn't exactly rare in Eureka, "she could get hurt, and we won't be able to take it back. It's not worth the risk." Zane shot out of the bed and paced the room, eyes glittering with anger.

"So what you're saying is that I need to look like exactly the jackass everybody's wanted to believe I was since day one, isn't that right Lupo? " he spat, gritting his teeth. "I've spent, what, two years trying to convince everybody I was a decent guy? Two years of you, Fargo and Carter on my ass about everything under the sun, and now you want me to go and demonstrate to the whole town that, oops, look at that, they were right all along! Well, I'm _not_ _interested._" He sneered. "Just like you were "_not interested" _ in a date two years ago. Of course," he continued, "looks like that wasn't strictly speaking true, after all." Jo sighed and looked down.

"Zane, what do you want me to say?" she asked, subdued.

"How about, 'Zane, I'm going to go home and put my head in the oven because I can't go on living knowing what a heartless _bitch_ I am!'" he shouted, throwing his arms up in the air. "Something like that!"

He crossed his arms over his chest and his eyes settled on her with a chill in his gaze. "You know, you talked a good game about how I'm secretly this trustworthy guy," he continued, "and maybe you even believe it. But you know what I think? I think that might make you even _worse_ than the original Lupo. She may have hated me, you could even say she was a cold _bitch,_ herself, but even _I_ know she'd never sell a friend down the river like this."

Jo made a strangled noise deep in her throat, but said nothing, feeling ashamed. He threw his hands up into the air. "I need some time to think," he said, grabbed some clothes, and stormed out. Jo stayed behind, head in her hands.

* * *

A couple of hours later, Zane returned home in a subdued mood, anger having long since become resignation. Zane of all people knew how quickly the law could turn on you in Eureka, and as he'd stormed aimlessly through the streets, he'd reluctantly admitted to himself that Jo might be right. It wouldn't be long at all before it was virtually impossible to disguise her pregnancy, and the questions that would then arise would only exacerbate the DOD investigation of their latest incident with Grant. Jo, and now Zane, walked a very thin line between safety and detection, and their margin of error was slim. He'd never wanted to hurt Zoe; he had just wanted a brief flirtation, with the pleasant side effect of driving Carter to distraction (that should have been his first hint that something was wrong, he mused, Carter barely flinching at the thought of Zane around his daughter), but Jo was right. He was being selfish, he admitted. He was no martyr, but even he realized Zoe's life was more important than his own reluctance to be continually the bad guy. Nobody _wanted_ to hurt Zoe, but something – someone – would eventually have to give.

More importantly, Zane knew what it was like to be abandoned by your own father. Zoe would forgive them eventually, he hoped. But – some things left a mark, and having your father walk out on you could only leave you broken. He had a feeling "extenuating circumstances" was not a satisfactory excuse. He sighed and turned to the kitchen, suddenly exhausted. He was rummaging through his cupboards for the coffee grounds when he heard a faint noise from his bedroom, and froze. Was Lupo still _here_? He hesitated, but shut the cupboard door and padded down the hall in his socks. He peered into the room, half expecting to see her lying in wait with her taser. The scene that greeted him instead was so startling that he dropped the forgotten bag of coffee grounds – thankfully still sealed – onto his carpet with a soft "_plop."_

Josefina Lupo was fast asleep on his bed, curled on her side with her hands clutching his sheets. She shifted and he froze, but she didn't open her eyes. He took a step closer and noticed she was gripping his sheets with such force her knuckles had gone white. Her face with lined with tension, and, heart clenching, he realized she was crying in her sleep. He was about to back away, when she said in a strained voice,

"No, wait, Zane, please don't go," grabbing at his pillow. "I didn't mean to, I love you," at this his eyes widened. Talk about something he'd never expected to hear. "I can't do this without you, _please,_" her voice broke into a sob on the last word, and she struggled fruitlessly in the grips of her own nightmare. His feet carried him forward before he even began to think through his actions or wonder whether she might snap his neck for seeing her in a moment of weakness, and the next thing he knew he was on the bed, bundling her into his arms. Her head and the crook of his neck fit together like puzzle pieces, and he was suddenly knew without the shadow of a doubt that he was going to do whatever she asked of him. He swallowed hard, unnerved. "Jo, come on Jo-Jo, wake up," he whispered frantically, smoothing down her tangled hair and wiping away the tear tracks from her face. Her face relaxed a fraction at his touch, and her eyes flickered open.

"Zane?" she whispered, gripping him as if he might disappear. Feeling as if the world had shifted under his feet, he rubbed her back reassuringly. She relaxed and flushed. "You know I hate it when you see me like this," she muttered, closing her eyes again and nuzzling into his shoulder.

"Hey, Jo-Jo," he murmured, and she smiled sleepily.

"Hey, yourself," she said softly. He ran his hand through her hair again, feeling uncharacteristically tender. Then her body tensed in realization and he knew reality had set in. Her eyes shot open and she flung herself out of his lap, smashing her head into his chin accidentally on the way out. His lower jaw jarred his upper with the force of a panic-stricken Lupo. He grunted in surprise and winced.

"Zane!" she exclaimed in alarm, horrified by her moment of weakness. Then she rubbed her head ruefully. "Ow. Sorry," she muttered.

"Jo-Jo," he began, with a hint of a smile. The ghost of some secret pain washed across her face, and he stopped and considered her in silence. She looked humiliated and defeated, leaning against the bed, but under his gaze she lifted her chin in defiance. Whatever it was, he decided, could wait – for now. What he really needed to do was declare his intentions.

"I'll do it," he told her, looking serious. "And I won't tell Zoe. I've been telling you for years, Lupo, I can be trusted." He paused, and added quietly, in the hopes that it might just… slip under her radar. "In any case every kid deserves to know his father." Something flickered in her expression – he suspected she hadn't missed the undertones to his statement – she probably knew more about his family life than she'd let on – but she let it slide.

"Good," she said, chin still slightly raised. "It's the right thing." Jo said, hoping it was true. She looked uncomfortable. "Look, I should go…" She said, pushing off the bed. She needed time to think; time to get her mind working again.

"Did we fight like this often?" he asked abruptly, stopping her short. She turned around, framed by the doorway, and tried to deflect the question as he slid off the bed in pursuit.

"You know, oddly enough this _is _my first top secret pregnancy," she said dryly. "So no, this isn't a fight I've had before." She turned around and entered the hallway, but he'd caught up to her and pulled her back, gently, by the arm. After he let go, she leaned against the wall and crossed both arms.

"You know that's not what I meant, Josefina." He responded calmly. Jo looked down at her feet.

"Neither of us were perfect," she shrugged. "I seem to remembering mentioning something along those lines when I – ah – threw that ring at you." He watched her closely. It was obvious she was uncomfortable with this line of conversation, which he catalogued in his mind for further consideration. It wouldn't do to push her too hard – if he knew anything about Lupo, it was that she was good at pushing back.

"I'm not going to tell you I was wrong." He challenged her; then admitted more softly, "But I'm sorry for what I said." Jo finally looked at him, rolling her eyes.

"Well, _honestly_, don't you think I'm used to it by now?" Just like that, he was once again the one feeling off balance – and he thought, as he had two years ago, that they could do well together. Once upon a time this had left him feeling bitter at the missed opportunity – now, for the first time, the future was looking… hopeful. He leveled his gaze on her and edged closer, causing her to back up a step.

"I imagine you would be used to a lot of things, by now," he murmured softly, moving forward and losing the extra foot of space. "My experience so far suggests you have a great deal of… ah… _intimate _knowledge." Jo was backed up against the wall now, eyes wide and dilated, somewhere between anxiety and desire. He wetted his lips and her eyes darted to them at the movement. He leaned in close and Jo closed her eyes as he brushed up against the side of her cheek – feeling the scratch of his light stubble – and his whisper was barely a puff of breath against her ear, but all her senses were on fire, making it feel more like a foghorn. "_I suppose I'll have some catching up to do_."

He stepped back, seemingly cool and collected. "See you tomorrow, then," he said. Jo, breathing a little faster than usual, leaned against the wall as if it were the only thing holding her up – in fact, she suspected it really could be.

"Right," she said, breathlessly. "Ah… tomorrow." She took a deep breath, trying to collect herself. "Right." Jo peeled herself off the wall, feeling unsteady on her feet but refusing to show it. She straightened her back reflexively, in an effort to regain control of _something,_ and headed for the door.

"Wrong way," Zane said. She flushed and turned around, deciding silence was really the better part of valor.

Zane followed her to his door and leaned against the frame. His arms were crossed casually across his chest, but his gaze was anything but casual.

"Drive safe, Jo-Jo," he said, voice lower than usual. She nodded jerkily and fled to her car. Jo avoided his gaze as she pulled out of the driveway, but his darkened eyes remained fixed intently on her car until she was out of sight. "Let the games begin, then." He murmured to himself.

On the other side of town, Jo crossed the large living room area of her new home and tossed her keys onto the kitchen table with a sigh. The panic and adrenaline were starting to wear off, and exhaustion from an entire night spent wide awake and in disbelief was setting in. She massaged her temple with one hand, stepping into the bathroom off the kitchen, where she pulled open the mirrored door to her medicine cabinet. She grabbed a bottle of acetaminophen then paused, realizing she had no idea what kind of medication was permissible during a pregnancy. She'd just have to ask Allison…

Jo replaced the bottle and closed the cabinet door with resignation then headed for her bedroom instead. Within seconds she was under the covers, never taking the time to change her clothes. She glanced at the alarm clock and phone lined up on her bedside table. It was barely past noon, and she was already exhausted. Her eyes caught the blinking red light indicating there was a new message, and her hand was already hovering over the play button when she found herself reconsidering. She had no desire to be faced with anyone who might have left that message right now. Instead, she turned back to her other side, curled up, and closed her eyes. If anything dire was happening, she was sure they'd wake her up.

* * *

**Disclaimer: I do not own Eureka, nor do I own that eternally awesome line I borrowed from Veronica Mars.**

**A/N:** If you recognize the line borrowed from Veronica Mars, you deserve accolades. Other things: you may think – understandably – that Zane was… overly harsh. But I was re-watching episodes and I think that this Zane is a little bit harder and a little bit angrier than the old Zane. He's bitter. And the old Zane could be sort of volatile too. Hence, not-nice things were said. He has some issues to work out. In contrast – at this point – Jo is feeling a bit broken down and vulnerable, whether she likes it or not. Which she obviously does not.

**Question:**

How are we feeling about the M rating? Does the thought of an impending sex scene make anyone want to scurry away from reading this? I know there's not much being written for _any_ of the ratings in the Eureka section (it's what prompted me to write this in the first place) and I wouldn't want to deprive you all of something to read, so if it makes you wildly uncomfortable I suppose I could create a separate story of chapter outtakes? So everybody could have the best of both worlds? This might delay updates, though, I have to warn you. It's hard enough writing a chapter – writing a chapter and then censoring it is probably going to take some time. Anyways. If you intend to continue reading this it would probably behoove you to let me know. =)


	4. Chapter 4

Everything is Illuminated

It was a warm Sunday morning in Eureka, and Café Diem was crowded for Sunday brunch. At the far end of the café, Zane was ensconced in the couch by the fireplace, strategically located in such a way that it simultaneously prevented him from being seen from the door whilst giving him an excellent view of the door via the numerous framed photographs and knick-knacks Vincent had accumulated in the café. After Jo had left the previous afternoon, Zane's mind had skipped like a record knocked off course, assimilating everything he'd learned during that tension-filled conversation into his own observations and making comparisons to the Lupo he'd once thought he knew. The Jo Lupo he'd come to appreciate over the last few weeks was softer; not just more feminine but more humane – sympathetic, even. Those were the changes which had jolted him out of his complacency with the status quo sometime after she'd rescued him from Mansfield's accusations. She hadn't just stood up for him against the authorities; she'd actually put her trust in him – had raised the stakes to previously unimaginable heights, risked her job, all on the faith she'd had in a version of him who no longer existed. Her certitude in the value of his redemption was – humbling, to say the least. He'd meant it, when he told her from behind bars that day that she was wasting her time. He still wasn't convinced that he'd been wrong, but her obvious confidence in him gave him pause. It wasn't every day that you pursued someone who might know you at least as well as you knew yourself.

He was drawn out of his thoughts by the tinkling bell sound of the door to the café, and his eyes flashed quickly to the glass reflection he'd been using to watch the door, registering Jo's figure entering the café. Zane propelled himself from his armchair and turned on his heel to face the door. Jo's back was to him as she greeted Vincent, but what a _nice_ back it was. Her hair was down with a slight curl and she was in a pale yellow dress, strapless, with an empire waist. Zane inhaled sharply, surprised, for what now felt like the thousandth time, by Jo Lupo. He strode across the room, twirling her around and into his arms with a quick tug. Jo stiffened in shock, and, he suspected, reached for her absent gun, but then Zane's hands were twisted into her tumbling mane of hair and his mouth was insistent on hers. It was an embrace her body knew in an instant – even if it took her mind a moment to catch up – and then she melted into him once more. He breathed her in – she smelled of lemon, ginger and gunpowder, which made him smile briefly against her lips, and he pulled her closer without thinking about it. All he really knew was that he wanted her so close that the lines between the two of them could begin to blur. As he pulled her closer, Jo wrapped her arms around his neck and molded her body to his, inch for inch.

Pleasantly oblivious to the world around them – which did actually appear to be standing still, as most of the patrons of the café had dropped their silverware and their jaws in shock – it seemed as if several hours had passed when they finally pulled away from each other, breathing hard. Zane kept Jo snug against him as she pulled out of the kiss, willing her not to flee and willing his own mind to begin to function again. He rested his forehead against hers and for a moment they were locked eye to eye. With reluctance he pulled away and added another inch of distance between them.

"So," he said, seemingly blasé but well aware of their sizeable audience. "Brunch?" He suggested with raised brows. Jo's hazel eyes goggled at him, transformed by the sunlight into a warm honey gold. Zane didn't even bother stifling his trademark lopsided smirk, absentmindedly brushing a stray lock of hair from her dazed face. The whole café watched, breathless, not recognizing that this die had already been cast a long time ago. Zane doesn't blame them, because even though he knows this moment is, in a sense, rigged, it still seems in defiance of all his known laws of nature when a little twitch of a smile appears on Josefina Lupo's face, combined with an ironic glint to her eyes. He let out a breath he'd never even realized he was holding and wrapped her hand in his.

Pulling her toward the fireplace where he'd been staking out the café, he smiled engagingly. "Come on now, I don't bite," he teased. Jo threw him an arch look which wordlessly suggested that she had it on very good authority that this was not strictly speaking the case, causing Zane to trip over his own feet in surprise. He narrowed his eyes. "Well, I _won't_ bite." He conceded then smirked. "Unless you want me to." He took a seat on the couch, and she followed suit, sinking into the dip in the couch created by the worn out springs and stiffening slightly at the closeness artificially created between them by gravity. But Jo was reluctant to relinquish her opportunity to have the upper hand. Instead, she threw him a brazen look and responded,

"You know I prefer to save that kind of thing for dessert, _pookie_." She raised her eyebrows, daring him to contradict her. Zane just gave her an appreciative look – he'd always known she was a worthy opponent – and settled down to his eggs scrambled with mozzarella and bacon. Her dress brushed against his arm and piqued his innate sense of curiosity.

"Since when do you wear dresses, anyhow?" Jo shrugged, looking a little tense, which seemed odd to Zane until it occurred to him that he probably knew exactly 'since when,' down to the day – at least in this universe.

"I was at the morning service at the church before I came," she responded, and Zane was taken aback.

"You don't go to _church_!" he blurted before he could stop himself. Jo bit her lip.

"Well that explains why Reverend Harper was looking at me so oddly," she muttered. It was hard for her to imagine a world in which she _didn't_ go to church. She wished more than ever that she could get a look into the head of new timeline Jo Lupo and figure out where things went so _wrong._

It wasn't much longer before Vincent appeared with Jo's brunch, looking understandably uncomfortable, though curious in spite of himself. In any case, Vincent knew better than to inquire. He'd just have to get by on the wildfire of speculation that would be springing up in their wake. Zane, ignoring Vincent entirely, did a double take when he saw her meal.

"Uh, want some _pancake_ to go with that chocolate, Jo?" She grabbed her fork and knife and threw a puzzled glance in his direction.

"What?" she asked. He jerked his chin at her plate. She had a stack of three pancakes, chocolate chip, coated heavily in chocolate syrup and – was that Nutella?

"Seriously?" he said, and she rolled her eyes at him.

"I wanted chocolate. Anyway I haven't been eating well lately – " here she shifted her eyes away awkwardly, not really wanting to remind him, or even herself, of the change in her eating habits brought on by both the stress of the timeline change, and what she now realized had been morning sickness, "– so I really should take what I can get while my appetite lasts."

"Well – I mean, I guess I can see that. But _Nutella_?" She took a bite of the disturbingly slathered concoction, smiling faintly and looking distant. "My mother loved Nutella," she said wistfully. "It was always sort of a staple in our house when I was little." Zane watched her reminisce as he ate, somewhat awed. The woman was a walking contradiction – a backbone of steel and a gun eternally at her hip; seasoned with an ineffable allure and apparently a marshmallow-soft center. He was vaguely aware he might be gaping. "Besides," she teased, looking back up at him, "You eat _toasted peanut butter with bacon_. Since when are _you_ at liberty to judge?"

"Hey don't you be knocking the peanut butter and bacon! That is a _gourmet_ food, just ask Vincent over there." He waved a hand toward the counter. Jo rolled her eyes.

"Vincent's the one who created that abomination, I suspect he may be what you'd call biased." She responded, digging into her own bizarre concoction. Zane finished his own meal, and pushed forward the plate on the table, leaning back against the couch and stretching with satisfaction. That was when Jo got a good look at his shirt and choked on her pancakes. Eyes watering, she grabbed her glass of milk. Zane, oblivious to the cause, looked at her with consternation.

"You alright?" he asked, as she gulped in air, coughing.

"Your… shirt," she wheezed, gesturing vaguely. His dark blue shirt, which read, "If it weren't for law enforcement & physics, I would be unstoppable!" complete with a little graphic of handcuffs. Zane winced in realization. The first time Lupo had caught him wearing that shirt, he had been 'accidentally' tased, but even Lupo couldn't reasonably lock him up over a t-shirt, and she'd eventually chosen to ignore it. He'd forgotten she'd be seeing it again for the first time, and suddenly hoped she did not have the taser on her. He hadn't really missed her weapon of choice. Jo just wiped her watering eyes and shook her head.

"Like I said before, you're much too irritating to be boring." She remarked, and shook her head. Zane found he was delighted: Jo Lupo with a decent sense of humor – who would've thought? She took a few deep breaths and finished the last few bites of her meal, throat feeling rather scratchier than it had a few minutes ago. She gathered up the trash and dirty dishes left over from her meal and crossed the room, leaving Zane behind packing his work and his laptop. When she returned, Zane was perched on the arm of the couch, waiting patiently.

"All set?" he asked, and she nodded in response, not wanting to aggravate her throat further by speaking. He flashed a quick smile at her, and the two of them headed for the door.

Within moments of their departure, Vincent was on the phone and ready to spread the news through town. Outside the café, Zane and Jo walked down the sidewalk to Jo's bright blue car. As she rummaged through her bag for her keys, Zane leaned against the car, hooking his thumbs in his belt loops. He watched her closely. Feeling his eyes on her, she looked up.

"I have something for you," he said, with a hint of discomfort, and reached into his pocket, pulling out the ring she'd thrown at him a little more than a week ago. Suddenly the lighthearted mood from the café dispersed.

"_Oh,_" she said softly. Her eyes darted to his and away again. "You don't – I mean – it's_ your_ ring, Zane." She stammered awkwardly, and shifted on her feet.

"Hang on, Jo, let me finish." He said, stepping closer. "First of all, you might be interested to know it's not, strictly speaking, _my_ ring; there's an identical ring in my safety deposit box here in Eureka. As a matter of fact, I checked after our talk in Carter's office. It's still there." He looked contemplative for a moment then shook his head, resigned to the mysteries of time travel. "This is my grandmother's ring, Jo. There may be things I don't know or understand; I can't make you any promises. But if there's one thing I do know, it's this: if he – I – gave you this ring, I meant it. I may not remember the hows or the whys, but it belongs with you." He extended his hand, palm up, and the diamond solitaire glittered gold in the sunlight. Jo reached out tentatively and accepted it from his hand, fingertips brushing the palm of his hand and leaving behind a trail of sensation. Zane broke through the sudden tension. "Just the same," he added with humor in his voice, "I would recommend keeping it around your neck, out of sight. After the show we just gave the town, you might actually get _trampled_ if they see you with a ring."

"That is, if Zoe doesn't kill me first," she sighed, and Zane looked away, not wanting to rehash yesterday's argument; knowing full well that neither of them loved the way this situation was playing out. Jo finally looked him in the eye. "Thank you, Zane." She said seriously. She opened her mouth again, but closed it, not knowing what to say. Her eyes felt suspiciously moist and she began rummaging through her purse again, trying to stifle the sudden surge of emotion. Jo pulled out her keys shakily and flashed Zane a forced smile. "I should really get going," she said abruptly. Her hand brushed against his waist as she reached for the keyhole on the driver's side, but he initially did not step away in response. Jo set her shoulders back and raised her chin with defiance to look him in the eye, ready to argue if necessary – though at that moment she had no idea what her argument might be. Now that things were beginning to stabilize between them, her apparent inability to master her own emotional responses was more mortifying than ever. He stepped away but continued to watch her, his gaze oddly expectant. Trying to ignore him, she opened her car door and slid into the driver's seat with more care than usual, acutely aware of the way the hem of her dress rode up slightly over her thighs. Oh, for the love of _God_, how she hated dresses! She shut her door a little too hard in irritation, and started the engine. He was still watching her. Jo rolled down the window.

"_What?_" she asked sharply.

"See you tomorrow, Jo-Jo." Zane said, the strange smile still on his face, and she shook her head with irritation and pulled out of her parking spot. As she pulled into the traffic, she could see him still in her rearview mirror, watching her like a cat at a mouse hole. Jo shivered, and goose bumps popped up on her arms in spite of the temperate day. What had she gotten herself into?

On the far side of the café in a seat by the window, a lone figure sat with chai tea, a laptop and work lying forgotten on the table in front of her. Her brown eyes were narrowed as she watched the hushed conversation between the pair in the window, though she couldn't see whatever item had been exchanged. She'd been there since long before Jo's arrival from church around eleven, and had seen firsthand what could only be described as a scandalously over-familiar greeting between the two of them, news of which was no doubt already traveling through the town. Lips pursed in thought, Pilar opened a blank email and began to write.

_Dear Zoe,_ she typed, _I hope things are going well at Harvard. Meet any Harvard hotties lately? I hope so, for your sake, because things here in Eureka have just taken a turn for the weird… _

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own Eureka. I do not own the idea for that totally awesome shirt. I don't even own the idea for Jo's revolting breakfast. Someone somewhere actually eats that. Nor do I own Nutella, or even have any strong feelings about it. ;)

A/N:

I was going to wait until I'd finished Chapter 5 (and boy has that been a painful process) to post this, but I needed something about the next two days to have some kind of redemptive value... course selection week, exams, the usual. I wish I could get these chapters to be longer but I seem to have a mental block when it comes to scene breaks. Oh well. I hope you enjoy it, just the same.

Yes the shirt is real. Yes Zane should wear it on Eureka. (He does wear science shirts fairly regularly, I think I've noticed, although they're usually a little faded and hard to read.)

http:/ / t-shirts / If-It-Weren-t-For-Law-by-Snorg-Tees-643653

(Take out the spaces to follow the link to the t-shirt.)


	5. Chapter 5

Everything Is Illuminated

On Monday morning, Jo dragged herself reluctantly out of bed after a night of restless sleep, still consumed with worry about the fallout of yesterday's brunch at Café Diem, and dreading the prospect of the day ahead at GD. She was half-heartedly fixing herself a cup of decaf coffee, wearing one of her black suits for work with a scarlet cowl-necked top and her hair pulled back into her typical ponytail, when Carter barreled impatiently through her front door.

"Jo!" he shouted, looking frazzled. "Jo, where are you?" she leaned against the counter, looking tired and resigned, absentmindedly running her finger around the rim of her steaming coffee mug and staring blankly at the polished black marble of her countertop.

"Try your right, Carter," she said, and rolled her eyes. He whipped around, looking mildly chagrined.

"Jo!" he strode over to her spot by the counter then hesitated, stuffing his hands into the pants pockets of his uniform, suddenly uncomfortable. "I, ah, spoke to Zoe this morning." Jo flinched, looking pale. She wouldn't look Carter in the eye.

"How's Harvard?" she asked. Jack's bright blue eyes studied Jo speculatively, and not for the first time she hated, just a little bit, how well Carter could read her. Whatever the pompous scientists of the town might think about him, she knew he had a keen intuition about people. It had saved both of their lives on numerous occasions.

"From what I could make out, _Harvard_… is fine." Jo looked at him, questioning. "To tell you the truth, she was so worked up it was hard to figure out what she was saying. But from what I could make sense of, it seems to be _Eureka_… that has her tied up in knots." He added, throwing her a significant glance. "I don't suppose you'd know anything about that?" he asked gently, and Jo wilted a little under his compassionate gaze. She turned away from him, sipping her coffee apprehensively. After a few minutes, it became evident that Jo was not going to be the one to pursue this conversation, and so Jack made the leap forward instead.

"You know, I was at Café Diem before I came here," he said casually, and Jo froze. "Heard some interesting gossip – you know how Vincent is about those things. Some people seem to think they saw you and Zane together yesterday looking very cozy. Talking, flirting… kissing?" He said, raising his eyebrows.

"What did Zoe say?" Jo asked, quietly, studying her hands and looking pale.

"Well," Jack started, sliding onto a stool at the counter. "She did seem pretty upset," he began. "Confused, a little hurt," he said regretfully. "Ah – not so much with Zane, though. Seeing as he never _actually_ asked her out." He added. "It was a lot more about – well, you," he admitted. "And why you would do this to her."

Jo ran a hand through her hair anxiously and blurted, "I need to sit down." She nearly ran to the armchair on the other side of the room. Jack followed her and sat down across from her, looking at her earnestly.

"Look, Jo, I've been expecting something to happen between the two of you since you rescued Zane from Mansfield, and obviously Zoe was going to be upset – but I don't understand why you haven't talked to her. You had to have known that she'd find out about Café Diem. I would've thought you'd have called her right away." His face reflected his confusion, and Jo looked stricken.

"Jack, I swear, I didn't want – " Jo started, anguished, but Jack cut her off.

"No, no, no, Jo, stop!" Jack said quickly, "I know you love Zoe. I know you would never do this to her unless you had a good reason for it. But for the life of me I can't figure out _why_. I mean, I know there's no way around telling her that you made a move on the guy she was interested in, but all you need to do is tell her something along the lines of 'It just happened' and, you know, apologize – over and over again. You wouldn't even really have to explain anything about altering the timeline," he pointed out. Jo sighed, leaning forward with her elbows resting on her knees and massaging her temples in an unconscious attempt to rub out the tension. Jack looked sympathetic. Jo wasn't sure she deserved it.

"You know, I meant it when I told you I wasn't okay with the two of them, Jo. You've been hurting and – it sucks." He said. "I hate seeing my favorite deputy upset without being able to do something about it. I was a few days away from offering to go to the shooting range with you, and you _know_ how much I hate doing that," he joked, still looking concerned. "You going to tell me what's going on?" he asked evenly.

"I'm pregnant," she admitted finally, and shrugged with awkward self-consciousness.

Carter's face simultaneously lit up and softened, and Jo smiled a little despite herself. The man _so_ had a weakness for babies.

"Jo, that's – that's great news!" he said enthusiastically. "I mean, I didn't think you'd ever – " Jo pulled away, shooting him a glare. "Er – I, ah, mean…" She took pity on him.

"You're not entirely wrong, Carter, I wasn't exactly _planning_ on it." She said, dryly. "Of course there are a lot of things in my life right now I wasn't, strictly speaking, _planning _on." She crossed her arms. "Including your presence in my living room at – " she checked her watch " – 8:00 am!" She added, pointedly. Carter just grinned. "You're having a _baby_," he teased, drawing out the word in a sing-song voice, and Jo stretched across her coffee table to punch his arm. "_Ow_! Hey!" he sulked. Jo made a derisive noise.

"Who's the baby now, huh?" she smirked. Carter rolled his eyes, but looked serious.

"I get the feeling I'm still missing part of the story, Jo." He said. "What's the connection between the baby and Zoe?" he asked, even as he began trying to puzzle out her motives. Jo sighed, the previous lightheartedness dissipating quickly. She sat back against her couch, picking absentmindedly at the fabric.

"I'm two_ months_ pregnant, Jack. I can't just explain away two months of time. Zoe only told me she was interested in Zane a month ago, and you and I both know your Ivy League daughter can do basic math. There's only one way to explain this _and_ keep the timeline change a secret, and that involves letting Zoe believe… well, letting Zoe believe I let Zane lead her on while we were messing around behind her back." Jo looked pained. "I know Zoe must be furious with me," she said in a small voice. "I'm not exactly a big fan right now either. But, Jack," she said, and looked up at him, both determined and defiant. "If it's a choice between keeping Zoe and the baby off the DOD's radar and letting Zoe hate me… I'll let Zoe hate me." Jack watched her sympathetically.

"Congratulations, Jo," he said, dead serious. "You've clearly mastered the first rule of parenthood." Jo raised a tired eyebrow at him, and he elaborated. "The kid always comes first." Jo smiled at him weakly.

"It's not as if I'm lacking fringe benefits here, Carter." She pointed out. Jack gave her an unconvinced half-smile, shaking his head.

"I wouldn't sell myself short if I were you, Jo. The way things were, I was starting to think you really _wouldn't_ give in to the way you felt about the guy. But things went and changed on you, just like they always do in this town. To tell you the truth, I'm glad they did. I know you're upset about Zoe but – you seem better. Happier." Jo put her head in her hands.

"I know," she groaned. "I'm going straight to hell," she muttered, muffled. Jack shook his head, determined to get through to her.

"Jo, how many times have I made decisions for Zoe that she _really_ didn't like?" he prodded, gently, and Jo looked at him incredulously.

"Carter, I think that covers almost every decision you've _ever _made for Zoe." She pointed out, amused. He _hmm_ed thoughtfully.

"Yep, that sounds about right," he responded, with slightly forced cheer, then locked eyes with her, leaning forward intently.

"And have I ever let fighting with Zoe get in the way of making the right decision for her?" Jack prompted, watching Jo carefully.

"No," she muttered, recognizing the trap she'd laid for herself. "You've never let Zoe change your mind once it was made up, and you're _almost_ always right in the end." Jack smiled victoriously and settled back against the couch, eyebrows raised expectantly. "And I shouldn't let her either," she finished with a sigh. "But Jack, that's not how this is going to look to her," she pointed out. "This is just going to look like someone she trusted betraying her." Jack's smile faded and he looked at Jo seriously.

"I know. This isn't going to be easy on her," he admitted. "And I know it won't be easy for you, either, Jo. The important thing is that you know you haven't done anything wrong. And, for what it's worth," he added, "this is exactly what I would have asked you to do."

"That doesn't mean I like it!" If she was anyone else, she might have pouted. Carter offered her a self-satisfied smile.

"It only seems fair that _you_ get to be the object of Zoe's wrath for once," he teased her, gently. "Maybe I want to be 'good cop' this time!" Jo's lips tightened with irritation, but she had to concede the point to Carter. She'd always been a friend and sometime mentor to Zoe. She'd never really had to play – inwardly Jo rolled her eyes and gritted her teeth. Damn Zane for coming up with the term – _the Enforcer_ with Zoe.

"Do you think she'll ever forgive me?" Jo asked him quietly. He only hesitated for a second.

"What I think is that Zoe only ever had a crush on Zane. He never made her any promises, and eventually she'll admit she never really had any claim on him." He paused. "Jo, Zoe loves you, too. If she knew what was really going on, she would only want you to be happy. Eventually, when she sees you happy – and you _will_ be happy, Jo, don't you even try to argue with me – she'll remember what was really important to her in the first place. Right now, you need to focus on _your_ kid," he finished. "You can let me be the one to focus on mine, for a while." Jo flashed him a subdued, but grateful, smile. Seeing her start to relax, Carter grinned in response. "Besides, Zoe's not allowed to date until she's thirty. Zane will be an old man by then, so really you're just doing her a favor." Jo rolled her eyes.

"Right, Carter. Whatever you need to tell yourself to sleep at night." She shot back at him, and he smiled in genuine pleasure, glad to see some of her usual spunk returning. He stood up and stretched. "Josefina becomes a _mother_." He laughed. "Yep, this'll be fun." She narrowed her eyes at him.

"You know, just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean I've forgotten how to operate my gun," she reminded him sharply. His grin read _Uh-huh, heard that one before, Lupo,_ loud and clear. Checking his watch, he started moving for the door. "Well, the town can't police itself. I'd better go do the whole Sheriff thing. See you later, Jo." He said, amused with his own wit. Jo flashed a smile back at him.

"See you at the next disaster site, Carter," she said, and he whirled around.

"_Don't say that! _You're just _tempting fate_!" He said, eyes wide and arms flailing, and Jo smirked to herself.

"Bye Carter," she said smugly. He gave her a fond smile.

"Later, Jo," he replied, and walked through the door with a spring in his step and, she suspected, a whistle on his lips. She shook her head. _Oh, Carter, you are such a cliché sometimes._

* * *

Jo rested her head lightly on her steepled fingers, propping her elbows on her desk and eying the pile of paperwork in front of her. She'd started out her day by making the rounds through the labs, as she'd become accustomed to doing. It was a tedious, thankless process, but it was also what the rest of the world expected to see from the Jo Lupo of the altered timeline, and she couldn't afford to let that fall entirely by the wayside. Especially considering what she'd put at risk in order to maintain that illusion, she thought, sighing as she remembered her talk with Jack that morning. Bearing the weight of Zoe's safety wouldn't be worth much if she couldn't convince the rest of the world that she was the same Jo Lupo they'd always known. But as she entered lab after lab, she'd begun to notice peculiar undertones to the hushed conversations taking place around her. Ever since the timeline had changed, Jo had found herself faced with a certain degree of antagonism from the occasional faction of struggling scientists in GD who had been most frequently under the scrutiny of Director Fargo's 'Enforcer,' so she'd grown accustomed to a certain level of ill-will within the most frequently tyrannized labs, such as Dr. Parrish's. But the acrimony of those labs had always been balanced by an affable relationship with the more successful, well-funded labs – those which had no animosity towards Director Fargo, many of which furthermore disliked and resented Zane's disruptive presence in the community and had on occasion been retaliated against by Zane himself.

Those once-amicable labs were now coldly polite, tension seething beneath the thin veneer of professionalism, and with a sinking feeling Jo had realized that the fallout from their scene yesterday in Café Diem had proven to have a far wider ranging effect than she had ever imagined. Jo found herself retreating for her office, preferring to do paperwork in disgrace than face the hostility that practically vibrated out of the labs. Zane had been leery of this plan, Jo remembered, and she had an unsettling feeling that this was part of his reason. He knew the reality of ostracism in Eureka all too well. Jo's eyes flickered to her clock. It would be a long day for the Chief of Security.

Unfortunately for Zane, he did not have the privilege of an office to retreat to when the atmosphere at GD got to be too much for him. Not even the lab he worked in was private enough for the purpose. Parrish had been throwing him incredulous looks all day, and in whispered conversations behind his back he'd heard numerous comments regarding his sudden inclination toward 'licking the Enforcer's boots' and 'sucking up to Director Fargo.' Not much effort was put into keeping those opinions quiet, and it was only through sheer strength of will and the memory of Jo's tearstained face from Saturday that Zane refrained from silencing them with blunt force. By one o'clock, he'd taken all he could handle.

"I'm out," he announced abruptly, tossing a half-wired gadget onto Parrish's desk with a loud clatter. Parrish's lips thinned with irritation.

"You can't just leave – Director Fargo wants this done in two weeks and we're not even halfway close! You ought to be working _overtime,_ if anything."

"Oh, hadn't you heard?" Zane sneered. "I'm _screwing_ the Enforcer. I can do whatever the hell I want," He spun on his heels and slammed through the door to the lab, leaving behind a lab stunned silent. A weak voice piped up hopefully,

"Does that mean they'll push our deadline back?" Parrish massaged the bridge of his nose between his fingers in frustration.

* * *

Much later that night, Zane pulled into his driveway, deposited his motorcycle in the garage and retrieved the Café Diem take-out from his saddlebag. Heaving a sigh, he unlocked his front door and stepped inside, discarding his boots and leather jacket in the front hall. If possible, the situation at Café Diem – Zoe's former workplace – had been even icier than he'd imagined. He was half-convinced Vincent had spat in his food. After two years as a barely-tolerated interloper in this town, he'd known what to expect from the fallout; but it made his inability to defend himself no less frustrating. Of course, he was well aware that some of their ire was well deserved – it was at least true that he had been stringing Zoe along for quite a while – but he and Jo had become the most hated couple in Eureka with unprecedented speed. Still, the town seemed to have bought their ploy. Oh, they weren't completely convinced – from what he could gather, consensus seemed to be that he must be _blackmailing_ Lupo – but she hadn't been a big favorite in Eureka, either, since she'd started working for Director Fargo. He'd only seen the occasional glimpses of Lupo throughout the day, but she'd looked flustered, and he had no doubt that she'd been getting snide looks herself. No, the sympathy of the public rested squarely with Zoe Carter.

He had, however, been surprised by the general absence of Sheriff Carter from his day – a surprise which rapidly evaporated when a soft knock came from the doorway to his kitchen, as he unpacked his gradually cooling dinner. He spun around in surprise and was instantly put on guard by Carter's presence. Carter held up both hands and smiled disarmingly.

"You're safe," he said. "Look, no guns." Zane watched him skeptically. One of these days, he knew, it was inevitable that he'd cross the wrong line and drive Carter to the end of his rope, and this business with Zoe was by far the most personal he'd ever taken things with Carter. It had been, he reflected, all-around ill-considered. Hindsight really was 20/20, after all. "I spoke to Jo this morning – and Zoe," Carter added, and Zane couldn't help the frown that flashed across his face. Jo could have at least given him a head's up so he'd know what to expect from Carter. It was disconcerting and exhausting, he thought, the way he no longer knew where he stood with these people. Zane loved puzzles, but it wasn't nearly as fun when somebody else had all the pieces, and handed them out sparingly.

"I wanted to thank you," he said, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the doorway, and Zane's head snapped up. _Thank_ him? For crushing his daughter's heart? Up until today Zane would have bet good money that not even an alternate timeline could persuade Carter to think well of _that. _He met Carter's overly perceptive blue gaze with distrust.

"Really," Zane said, face unreadable. "What for? Leading your daughter on, breaking her heart, arranging public humiliation for her and Lupo…?" he suggested caustically. Carter watched him, looking speculative, and Zane had the disconcerting feeling that the man was reading him like an open book. He didn't like it, _at all._

"For keeping my daughter safe," Carter said finally. "Even if it means the whole town thinks you've led her on, broken her heart and, yes, publicly humiliated her with the woman she loves like a sister." Carter studied him carefully. "I can't imagine that it's been easy for you." He said slowly.

"You don't know me, Carter," Zane snapped, eyes like twin chips of blue ice, "Don't make the mistake of thinking you do." Jack offered him a conciliatory smile.

"Maybe so, Zane," he said, choosing to concede the point. As he'd said to Henry when the timeline had first been altered, people are who they are. And once upon a time, Jack had _known _Zane; had caught Zane proposing to the woman that Jack loved like another daughter – had seen the pain on his face firsthand when Jo froze. People are who they are, in the end. Jack was sure of it, and even if he hadn't been, everything he knew about this Zane brought him to the same conclusion.

"Just the same – thanks." He said simply, turning to go out the door. He paused and looked back, hand still resting on the frame. "And congratulations, by the way," Zane's face went carefully blank, and Jack strode out the door, confident that things were going to work themselves out.

* * *

Across town, Jo was contemplating her open cell phone as if a sudden move might prompt it to attack. Hesitantly she raised the phone to her ear.

"Zoe Carter," she instructed the phone, and heard the immediate _click_ as the phone began to dial. She waited with baited breath and sank into her armchair, nearly boneless with relief, when she heard her pick up. There was a measured silence, and then both voices broke into well-rehearsed speeches at the same time.

"Jo, _what the hell –_ "

"Zoe, I am _so sorry_, we should have told you – " Then silence. Zoe was first to break the verbal ceasefire.

"Jo, I am trying not to jump to conclusions here, but _what the hell._" She said again, with outrage in her voice. On the other end of the line, Jo heartily wished she could cease to exist. This was quite possibly the worst phone call of her life. She swallowed deeply, but the lump in her throat wouldn't go away. She pulled her knees up to her chest defensively and wrapped her free arm around them.

"Zoe, it's hard to explain, but – Zane and I, we've been… involved." For a moment, silence reigned. Then –

"I'm sorry, what do you mean – _been _involved?" Zoe said, starting to catch on, voice rising. Jo steeled herself for what she had to do next, closing her eyes and gripping the arm of the couch tightly.

"For two months," she said, voice barely a whisper, face twisted with anguish. She hated, hated, _hated_ this. There was a long pause.

"And you thought – what, it would be _funny_ to just, not mention this, say, a month ago? Maybe around the time you told me I could talk to you about _anything_?" Zoe said, getting increasingly worked up as she thought about the past month – then it hit her and she paused_._ "Oh, _god_," Zoe got out, sounding strangled. Uncertain what to say, Jo let her finish the thought. "You _did_ try to tell me – " she said, verging on hysterical. _Not exactly,_ Jo thought, but it wasn't so far from the truth, in the end. " – all that stuff you said about it not being a date, and how I could always talk to you – I'm such an _idiot_ – but Jo, god, how could you not _tell _me?" she finished, sounding distraught. Jo took this as her cue.

"Zoe, I'm _so_ sorry. I know this isn't a very good excuse, but – I was scared," _True_. "I didn't know where things were going between us," _Definitely true, _Jo admitted_. _"And I – I was worried about the consequences if things between us went public – especially at work," _True, though not so much for the reasons given._ Jo found she was picking at the fabric of her new couch again. She would really have to lose that habit before she made the thing go bald. She stilled her hand with effort. "Things were still… casual… between us." _Only if you count engagement rings as casual_, she thought. "I mean, you know what we were like in the past – there were a lot of issues to be worked out." _If only I knew what they were._ "I know it's cowardly, and it's not a good enough reason to let you down like this…" _I wish I could tell you what is,_ "But I guess I was hoping that things would just work themselves out when you got back to school, and I wouldn't have to worry about it," she finished with a sigh. "Like I said, cowardly. I wasn't expecting him to take me by surprise in Café Diem, or that the news would spread so fast," she admitted, wincing. _Sorry Zane,_ she thought,_ I know you're not enjoying having this pinned on you._ "I hope someday I'll be able to make it up to you," she said, sadly and with the utmost sincerity. Zoe gave a watery chuckle from the other end of the line, sniffling slightly and tearing Jo's heart in two.

"You'd better find something really damn good to grovel with, then," she joked weakly, and Jo smiled faintly.

"How about a pony?" she suggested; trying, and succeeding, in making Zoe laugh.

"_Please_. You owe me a tattoo." The edges of Jo's lips twitched up, just a little.

"Zo, there aren't enough guns in the world to make your father agree to that." She bantered feebly. "But," she added, more serious, "If it would help, I would try." Zoe giggled a little despite herself, and Jo could hear Zoe's clothes rustle over the phone when Zoe moved to wipe away a few stray tears.

"I think I need some time, Jo," Zoe said quietly. "But I appreciate the apology, and the explanation. I guess late is better than never. Oh," she added as an afterthought, "Tell my Dad we talked, okay? He kept telling me I needed to talk to you, not him. I kind of ripped him a new one earlier, though I still think he knew something he wasn't saying," she said pointedly, but Jo remained silent. Zoe sighed. "Keep your secrets then," she said, resigned. "Bye, Jo."

"Bye, Zoe," Jo responded; then, uncomfortably and surprisingly emotional: "Love you."

_Click, _said the dial tone, and Jo's shoulders slumped in defeat. She pulled herself up from the couch, feeling suddenly ancient and exhausted. As if on autopilot, she dragged herself to her room, climbed into bed, and drifted into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

Disclaimer: I so do not own Eureka. If I did I wouldn't spend time wondering when it would air again because it would air, like 24/7.

A/N: So this chapter was... difficult. I was crazy nervous about publishing it. It was supposed to be emotionally charged but also expositional. I think I seriously rewrote each scene at least once. I tried them multiple ways and I couldn't make up my mind about ANY of them. Well, that's not entirely true - I immediately loved the Parrish scene. Zane gets to really break out the jackass there. I went in a totally different direction with Carter, twice, in case you were wondering - somewhere along the line, rewatching episodes... I realized there was just no way Carter was going to fight with Jo, and things sort of progressed from there. As for Jo and Zoe... I tried, and I tried, and I tried to get that perfect, but I don't think I _get_ Zoe, much as I like her, so that was rough. If I were Zoe, at least, forgiveness would not be out of the question.

Anyways, what I'm really trying to say here is, if you thought this chapter had any redeeming qualities, please leave a review and let me know because I'm afraid I will hit a writer's block like a wall of concrete on Chapter 7 if I don't get positive reinforcement for this particular chapter. Yes, the implication there is that Chapter 6 is finished (for the time being).

Peace out!


	6. Chapter 6

TAKE NOTE: This is your long-awaited M chapter. If it makes you squirm, you can always skip it. :)

Everything Is Illuminated

Much later that night, Jo tossed fitfully from one end of her bed to another, inadvertently winding the sheets around her legs and subsequently struggling against the constriction. A thin sheen of perspiration coated her and her expression was unsettled as she slept.

_She was alone, and it was dark. She was alone, she didn't know where she was, something wasn't right. _

"_Jo!" she heard a voice in the distance and hesitated, trying to pinpoint its location. Why couldn't she find him? She was sure he was supposed to be there. It was quiet now and she panicked a little. She should have just picked a direction – _anywhere _was better than here in the dark. She stumbled forward, reaching out her hand ineffectually in front of her and stumbling. She felt a sharp pain in her elbow from an impact and knew she had fallen onto her own gun. How had it come off her belt, anyway…_

_She could see again! There was someone in front of her… "Jack?" she questioned, but he just looked at her silently. He was judging her. She knew. Behind him a tiny blonde was huddled defensively. _

"_You said he would hurt me," she said accusingly. "But you were the one I needed to worry about. You're a _ruiner_, Lupo." Her tone sounded familiar, but out of place._

"_Jo-Jo," she heard in the distance, and whipped around. That was where she needed to go – she needed to find him! But when she turned around, someone was blocking her path. The general? Jo backed up in confusion. _

"_Lupo… I'm surprised at you," he said. "I want it gone. Make it happen," she backed away in alarm and tripped over her own feet, and then she was falling, and her stomach ached – had she been shot? She was looking up, and there he was, she'd found him, only… it was his face, but it was distorted like a rippling reflection in water… she didn't understand… she reached for him, but he was too far gone, and then everything went black._

Jo shot up in bed, gasping, unconsciously reaching her arm out in imitation of her dream. She rubbed both hands over her face, brushing away tears, and pulled her knees up to her chest, shuddering. The visuals from her dream were already fading away, but the sense of loss and fear hung heavy in the air around her. Reflexively reaching for the phone, Jo dialed Zane's number on the speed dial before she'd even processed her own intentions. When he picked up, his voice heavy with sleep, the sound was so jarring she almost dropped the phone with shock.

"Hello?" He said, sounding so very much like the Zane she'd once grown accustomed to waking with. Using the phone just made it harder to differentiate between the two of them, and having made the call already felt like a mistake. She hung up quickly; certain he would just shrug it off as a prank call or wrong number and go back to sleep. Jo wasn't sure she could face him after her phone call with Zoe earlier in the evening, which had left her heavy with guilt. Some of which, no doubt, had contributed to the nightmare from which she'd just woken. She'd had a history of frequent nightmares since she was a child, which Zane had once known well, but since Founder's Day, nightmares and subsequent insomnia had begun to be the rule and not the exception to her life. Jo rolled over on her back and stared at the ceiling, heart clenching with guilt, loneliness, and not a little fear. It was going to be a long night.

Across town, a bleary eyed Zane was regarding his phone in indignation. Not only had someone woken him at – he glanced to the clock – _3am_, but they hadn't even deigned to speak. He checked the caller ID and frowned, puzzled and slightly concerned, when he realized it had been Lupo on the other end of the line. What on earth would have possessed her, for her to call him in the middle of the night? Was something wrong? What if she hadn't hung up on purpose? This was _Eureka_ after all. Concerned, he tried calling back but promptly received her answering machine. Zane groaned and slid off the side of the bed, padding with his bare feet to the bathroom off his bedroom. He turned on the light, wincing, and splashed his face with cold water to jolt himself into awareness. He dried his face and returned to his room, still squinting slightly in response to the bright lights. Rummaging through his dresser, he slipped a pair of jeans on over his boxers and pulled on a shirt, then headed to his front hallway to grab his boots and his motorcycle helmet, resigned to an early morning drive through Eureka. This was what he'd wanted after all, wasn't it? To get some answers? To be involved? Well, he was pretty damn involved now, and that included making sure Lupo hadn't passed out on her kitchen floor or been otherwise harmed by the latest GD disaster. Zane straddled his motorcycle and hit the gas, already calculating the quickest path he could make to Jo's house – trying not to think about the knowing look Carter had given him only hours before. Whatever Carter _thought_ he knew, he was wrong.

The streets were quiet, which, Zane admitted, was a refreshing change of pace compared to the barely contained chaos that usually permeated the town. The air was cool, and Zane imagined he could smell fall in the air. The leaves were still green but it was only a matter of weeks before they began to become increasingly vibrant and would eventually coat the ground. It was only ten minutes before he reached Jo's house and dismounted the motorcycle, propping it up quickly and tearing off his helmet, tossing it on the ground as he stormed to the door of the house, trying with irritation to smother his concern.

Inside, Jo had been trying fruitlessly to go back to sleep, and, fiddling with the ever-present ring around her neck, heard the motorcycle pull into her driveway. At first she thought she was imagining things, until the pounding on the door started. Reluctantly Jo pulled herself out of bed – sleepily imagining he was there to shout at her for waking him up, though something about that didn't quite track – and stepped out of the bedroom. As she crossed the threshold into her living room, the knocking stopped and she paused in surprise. She'd made it halfway across the room when the knocking stopped and she paused in response, at which point the door flew open and Zane crashed through, stumbling and cursing as he caught himself. Jo stared. _He must be really irked if he kicked my door in,_ she thought, groggy and vaguely amused. _Drama queen. _Then he caught sight of her, and to her surprise, the first words out of his mouth were,

"Jo? Why did you call? What's going on? Is the baby alright?" She stared at him, wide-eyed, not failing to notice this was the first time he'd managed to say 'baby' out loud. His hair was rumpled from his motorcycle helmet and he looked tired. He also began to look somewhat irritated by her silence. "Well?" he asked roughly, stepping towards her. He took in her disheveled, exhausted appearance, and his gaze softened. "Rough day?" he asked softly, and his not-quite tender expression made her heart ache in memory. She'd lost _everything. _What was even left? Jo wrapped her arms around herself and opened her mouth to speak, but found herself at a loss for words. The concern written fresh on his face was so hauntingly familiar that it shattered through what remaining defenses she had. Before she'd had time to think it through – or to think at all – Jo had launched herself into his arms, pressing her lips against his, her surfeit of emotions shooting like sparks into his skin. Tonight, he tasted not like tears and regrets and diamond rings; but of home, comfort and all things familiar and _right_.

Mind momentarily stunned free of its prior concerns, exhaustion officially put on hold; Zane pulled her flush against his frame. He'd kissed Lupo a few times now – had begun to get a handle on what, precisely, made the woman moan – but this was the first time she'd done it of her own accord and it was staggering. In some ways this was exactly what he _would_ have expected from kissing Jo Lupo, before; she was all confidence and fire, but _this_ Jo Lupo knew his body as well as she knew her own. That much was clearly evident, he thought, dazed, as she attacked a little-known spot on his neck which caused him to gasp aloud in a sharp intake of breath and pull her tight against his pelvis, grasping with urgency at her ass. God, she was _addictive_. That was when he realized how tiny and form-fitting her black pajama shorts were and he groaned. Jo was all too happy to oblige his interest, and provided him with full access by springing both legs up and around his waist, with one arm wrapped across the back of his neck and the other across his shoulder, all the while peppering his neck with hot, soft kisses interspersed by the occasional nip. He held her up carefully, propelling them towards the wall of her living room, but his gentlemanly care was tempered by his attentions to that fine, fine ass which had caused him so much trouble on many an occasion. He murmured something about guns into her ear, which caused her to bite down a little harder on his neck in annoyance at being reminded of the hallucination incident, and made his whole body jerk in reflex. She moaned in response to the corresponding friction, and he thought absentmindedly that he might have been waiting all his life to hear that sound. Finally he reached the wall and was able to press her against it, freeing up his hands to pull apart the braid in her mane of hair and explore every inch of her, but also enabling her to unzip his jacket and attempt to tug it forcefully off his abdomen. He was reluctant to remove his hands from their exploration up the length of her thighs, but capitulated for a moment after she growled into his ear,

"It comes off, _now_, or I get the taser." He was reluctant to push his luck, so hands up it was; but he wasted no time in divesting her of her own shirt and hissed through his teeth in surprise when he saw what was underneath, a low cut black bra lined with lace. Jo Lupo: the infinite puzzle. Zane doubted very much that he'd ever been bored for a minute, in that other life. He craved it, the constant battle that would be their life; craved _her,_ with every atom in his body. The ring which rested delicately in the valley between her breasts glittered with promises, provoking him to dip his head and trace the line of gold chain down to the ring and back up to the lace lining of her bra with a feather light touch, rubbing his thumb over the peak of a nipple and smiling smugly when Jo threw her head back and arched herself towards his hands in response. Her bra was off and in his hands so swiftly she scarcely recognized what was happening. His hands returned to their exploration, and one crept up the firm expanse of her tawny thighs and under the hem of her tiny black shorts, only to discover… _more_ lace. Zane sent up a silent prayer to the CEO of Victoria's Secret, and hoped fervently that it was a matching set. He inhaled deeply, hoping to regain control of the situation and his own desire, but only succeeded in getting a lungful of her uniquely Jo scent, and in response he sought out her mouth again, rubbing himself firmly against her. Jo gasped at the sensation and squirmed with impatience.

"_Zane,"_ she said breathlessly, and clutched at his back, nails digging half-moons into his skin. "Too much… clothing," she panted. "Off with the damn shirt," she growled, tugging at the hemline, and he pulled it over his head obligingly. She eyed his built chest hungrily and trailed her hand down the line of curls running from his lower chest into the exposed hem of his boxers. He sucked in a sudden breath, and Jo grabbed impatiently at his belt buckle and slid it off halfway before she was distracted by his lips tracing the still-pink scar remaining from her emergency surgery only a month before. He pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses on the scar over her heart, cupping her breast and causing her to writhe against him as his mouth drifted down and his tongue darted out to flick her nipple quickly. She gasped, sounding strangled, and in response he captured her lips with near-bruising force, curling his arm around her bare back, hand wrapping around her side and brushing the edge of her breast, and bracing her against the wall. His other hand snaked into her little black shorts and grasped her well-toned ass.

"Legs down?" he requested, a hair's width away from her ear. His breath caressed her face with warmth, and she complied reflexively. He released her to stand under her own power – she thought her legs might be trembling by now – and slowly slid the black shorts down her tawny thighs to reveal her black lace boy shorts, causing his eyes to promptly glaze over with desire. "Oh, Josefina," he said, drawing out her name like a caress, "So _fucking_ exquisite," he growled with surprising candor as he softly ran his hand down the lines of her hip. He slid a finger under the hem of lace and caressed softly. "I think, Jo-Jo," he said, gently, "that if you're going to change your mind about where this is going – now is the time to do it."

Jo was braced against the wall, legs slightly splayed and quivering. Her disheveled dark hair cascaded over one shoulder, stopping just short of the tip of her breast; her face was flushed and her lips, swollen. Zane knelt in front of her, looking surprisingly earnest as he caressed the curve of her hip. Something about the moment felt eerily familiar to her, and when the thought hit, it was with such force that Jo's entire body flinched. Her hand nearly shot up to the ring around her neck, but she kept her hand in place with the utmost concentration. Zane caught the change in her body language as it came, and was steeling himself for rejection when something shifted in her face and she covered his hand in hers, looping her fingers in the hem of the lace boy shorts and pulling – down. Zane's shock and desire were obvious on his face, compelling her to give him the answer which she wished in vain that she'd given in a similarly pivotal moment, two months ago.

"_Yes,_" she said, throat tight with emotion; paused, and then: "Now take off your damn pants." He stood, kicking off his boots, and in one swift move he'd discarded both jeans and boxers. Jo peeled herself off the wall and stepped forward, reaching out to cup his cheek. "Zane," she said faintly, not sure who she was talking to, anymore, and leaned in to kiss him, soft and infinitely tender. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close and savoring the feeling of her skin pressed against his, stroking his hands up and down the length of her back. Nothing lay between them but promises, and one small diamond ring. He deepened the kiss, biceps straining slightly as he lifted her one more and slipped inside her in one smooth motion, her legs wrapped around his hips in a vice grip. Time stopped in that moment: Zane holding her tightly as his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, and Jo biting down on his shoulder, hard, in response to the motion. As he began to move, Jo whimpered responsively in his ear, and Zane felt as if he might drown in sensation. He sped up, breathing hard, as Jo tossed her head back and dug her fingernails into his shoulders; and they both cried out with mingled exhilaration and pleasure. When they came, one after the other, Jo's eyes were closed, as she _shattered_; Zane's were wide open, in awe, as the pieces of his life fell into place. He buried his face between her neck and her hair, feeling overwhelmed.

Minutes passed; their breathing evened out, and, cradling Jo with unexpected tenderness, Zane pulled away from her and placed her on the floor, but kept her wrapped in his arms, his cheek brushing against the crown of her head. She leaned against him, feeling boneless, aching residually in the wake of her orgasm. A breeze drifted past them and she shivered, no longer caught up in the heat between them. She looked over Zane's shoulder and was disconcerted to discover that, caught up in the urgency of the moment, neither of them had so much as closed the front door. Outside, the sky was still dark, and the world, quiet. With a sigh she disentangled herself from Zane and padded across the carpeted room to shut the door with a quiet _click_, too sated to be particularly embarrassed by the discovery. She turned around to find Zane leaning against the doorframe to her bedroom; sanguine as always, in spite of his nudity. She crossed the room and took his hand, leading him into her bedroom without a word, and climbed into bed. After the briefest moment's hesitation, he followed, wrapping his arm around her waist and molding his body to hers under the sheets, reveling in the sensation of her skin bare next to his. She laced her fingers through his, and raised his hand to her lips briefly, brushing a feather-light kiss across his knuckles before tucking their entwined hands by the curve of her collarbone. They lay together in silence for a few minutes, lost in thought, until Zane finally spoke.

"Good night, Jo-Jo." He said quietly, placing a gentle kiss on the bronze skin of her exposed shoulder, briefly rearranging his head on the pillow and closing his eyes, face so close that Jo could feel the warmth of his breath on her shoulder blades. The familiar sound of his breathing lulled her into the deepest sleep she'd had in two months.

* * *

Disclaimer: Still not owning Eureka. Guess I'll just have to get used to it.

A/N: I was wildly nervous about posting this. Appreciative responses will therefore be much appreciated, saved and savored like a fine wine. ;) Not that I really care for wine, but you get the idea.


	7. Chapter 7

Everything Is Illuminated

The next morning, Zane was first aware of the slightest discomfort of something lightly tickling his nose with every breath he took. Exhaling with extra force, he opened his eyes to discover, chagrined, that he'd buried his face in Lupo's hair during the night. She was still breathing deeply and evenly, soundly asleep. Zane pulled back carefully and pulled his half-asleep arm out from under the pillow to prop up his head and get a better look at Jo Lupo, sans defenses. Her hair, slightly tangled from her restless night, cascaded halfway from her pillow to his. He brushed a stray lock from her face, his fingertips feather-light, and held his breath, unexpectedly nervous, as she shifted toward him in her sleep, unconsciously pressing her cheek into the gentle touch. Gusts of wind through the trees outside caused the dappled light streaming through the curtains to dance across her peaceful face. His world was still and peaceful and whole in a way it had never been before, and his instinct was to cling to the moment. Zane's eyes drifted from Jo's face down to her still-flat abdomen. Lying in bed with her for the first time, after a night in which they'd clung to each other like the sole survivors of a wreck at sea, the once-abstract concept of Josefina Lupo carrying his child felt suddenly and viscerally concrete. He swept his fingers softly over the smooth, sun-kissed skin of her shoulder, lost in thought, and barely registered the moment she began to stir from sleep.

When Jo woke that morning, it was to the quiet scrutiny of a pair of bright blue eyes, and she was immediately and forcibly reminded of the day she'd woken in GD after her surgery. There, in that moment by her bedside, he'd looked for all the world like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar; but all traces of his former sheepish expression were gone now, replaced by an intensity of focus he usually reserved for the mysteries of the universe.

She propped herself up on her elbow, feeling nervous, and reached up a hand to fiddle with the ring around her neck – her newest and least favorite nervous habit – before she could think better of it. She was discomfited to note the reflex only served to intensify his gaze. She lifted her chin defiantly and met his stare with one of her own, raising her eyebrows slightly in an arch look. He held her gaze for a moment: Jo Lupo, wearing nothing but a sheet and his engagement ring, her dark hair tousled and partially curtaining her face. It was almost enough to make a man believe in miracles. It had certainly done a lot for his belief in time travel. He slid closer, and Jo froze.

"You are something else, Josefina, you know that?" he said softly, and cupped her cheek, brushing his thumb over the high arch of her cheekbone. Her breath caught in her throat as he leaned in, his eyes holding hers. When the inevitable kiss came, it was as tender and certain as last night's kisses had been impassioned and needy. It was seductive in an entirely different way, like seeing flickering flames of a warm fire from a snowy drift outside the window – and Jo was sick of the cold. She lay back, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down with her; savoring the pressure of his body above both weighing her down and anchoring her.

Absent last night's sense of urgency, Zane explored her body languorously; his brain, ever in motion, cataloguing every reaction his attentions elicited: everything from her breathy little sighs into his mouth as he caressed the soft curve of her breast to the little hum of pleasure she made when he nibbled gently at the delicate curve of her earlobe. He wanted to memorize her the way she'd memorized him, and he had some catching up to do.

Zane's hand drifted lower, tracing the sleek skin of her back, from the base of her neck to the bottom of her sharply angled shoulder blades. As his hand drifted around to the side of her waist, she twitched underneath him abruptly and unexpectedly, and they both froze. Raising his head from its prior location buried in the crook of her neck, a little smirk snuck onto his face, spreading from the left corner of his mouth to the right, and it looked as if he was holding in a laugh.

"Jo-Jo," he all but purred, "don't tell me you're ticklish." Jo's eyes widened imperceptibly, with a touch of panic. She licked her lips nervously, and Zane's eyes tracked the movement with interest, but he had bigger fish to fry. She affected total indifference, but not even her best 'Enforcer' face could stop him – all he'd have to do was –

Zane gave her side another teasing stroke, and this time she not only twitched but squeaked, to her own mortification. _That_. All he'd have to do was that. She scowled, and tried to bat away the hands she'd been welcoming so enthusiastically only a few moments before.

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm not ticklish," she heard the words come out of her mouth and groaned inwardly. If she knew anything about Zane, she knew protest was only going to encourage him; sure enough, a glint formed in his eye, and she braced herself.

"_Really_," he said, drawing out the word and sounding amused. "Is that so? Don't you think that's sort of – unusual?" He suggested, innocently, and she eyed him.

"No." She responded, crossing her arms in apparent irritation, but with an underlying desire to shield her sensitive sides from ominously wandering hands.

"You know, maybe you should get that checked out," he suggested. He looked up, pretending to ponder the issue. "Hey, I'm a doctor," he said suggestively. Jo rolled her eyes.

"You're a _physicist_, not a _physician,_" she hissed. "Don't even start with me, Donovan." He ignored her tone entirely.

"Dr. Donovan, you mean," he corrected cheerfully, and his hand slipped smoothly under her arms and towards the goal it had been inching toward all along. Jo made a last minute attempt at deflection, which ultimately only gave him better access, and even as she began to shake with suppressed laughter, she was deciding how best to get the upper hand. Taking a deep breath and trying to control her urge to laugh, she began to carefully angle her body. Once she'd achieved the ideal position, she flipped him under her and straddled him in one swift motion, pinning his hands over his head with a victorious smirk. The position only served to highlight their general state of undress, however, and the tone of the room seemed likely to transition from playful to passionate in short order when the two of them locked eyes. That lasted only until Jo's sudden shift in equilibrium caught up with her and the child inside her protested vehemently. Jo released Zane's hands and sat back on her heels abruptly, clasping her hands to the base of her throat as if trying to physically squelch the rising nausea.

She took a deep, calming breath, and slid off of him and out of the bed, the sheets spilling like water of her body. For a moment she was silhouetted by the light which shone through the window, her dark hair tumbling most of the way down her back. He had only a moment to appreciate the sleek contours of her body before she made a dash for the bathroom and he belatedly identified the issue at hand. He shrugged off the blankets and headed for the bathroom in pursuit, where he found her crouched over the toilet, lost in a special kind of hell. Wordlessly, he pulled her long, unkempt hair back, allowing her to release it from her own fist, which then shot out to clench the toilet seat with desperation instead.

After her stomach settled, she slumped against her heels uncomfortably, reaching out to pull down the toilet handle and flush as an afterthought. He remained crouched with her on the floor, taking her hand and rubbing it gently with his.

"So," he asked, his smile soft and teasing, "You come here often?" She rolled her eyes at him.

"Not when I can help it," she said dryly. Having broken the uncomfortable silence, his smile was laced with genuine sympathy.

"Come on," he said, tugging at her hand and standing up. "I'll make you whatever you want for breakfast. Or not," he added hastily, seeing her complexion turn a delicate shade of green. She let him pull her up from the floor carefully, but closed her eyes and took a deep breath in the hopes of settling her stomach once she was back on her feet. She grabbed her toothbrush and toothpaste hurriedly, needing badly to get the taste out of her mouth and avoid round two. Zane vanished as she rinsed the taste from her mouth, giving her a moment to compose herself, and reappeared wearing his now-wrinkled clothes from the night before. He held something out to her, and she realized he'd found her light blue bathrobe where it had been hanging on the back of her door. She wrapped it around her gratefully and looked up at him with a hesitant smile. His face was unreadable, but when she caught his eyes with her own he ducked his head for a moment, grinned, and looked up, eyebrows raised. "Shall we?" He gestured to the door and she rolled her eyes, but swept past his outstretched arm willingly. Zane shook his head and followed her in his signature loping gait, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans.

As they entered the living room, Zane broke away behind her and headed for the refrigerator while she made a beeline for the couch. Jo curled up against the arm of the couch, her feet tucked under her and her arm pressed against the armrest, supporting her head. Her eyes tracked Zane's movement in the kitchen absently. In spite of her illness, this was the most relaxed she'd been in weeks. Zane glanced up and smiled with self-satisfaction when he realized she was watching him. He tilted his head thoughtfully.

"You sure you don't want anything to eat?" he asked. She winced and nodded, but looked at him uncertainly.

"I think I could handle some peppermint tea… if you don't mind. Cabinet on the right," she directed him. He grabbed the teapot sitting on her stove and poured in fresh water from the tap, setting it up to boil. His motions were fluid and soothingly familiar, even as he fumbled in the unfamiliar settings of her kitchen. She closed her eyes and rested her head on the back of the couch as he rummaged through her drawers seeking the coffee strainer. He set the strainer, tea and fresh grounds with the two mugs waiting on the counter and opened up the fridge to weigh his options. It only took a quick glance at the meager contents to reach two conclusions: first, that he'd be making a stop at Café Diem that morning; second, that it was no wonder Lupo had seemed to lose weight in the past few weeks – there was hardly anything there to eat.

His eyes wandered to the woman who, huddled on the couch, had clearly drifted off; and he frowned almost imperceptibly. With her guard down, the bags under her eyes and the lines on her face now seemed more distinct and worrisome, and for the first time since he'd become caught up in the events of last night he had a moment to consider how he'd found himself in this situation. She'd been rattled when he'd arrived, and though he hadn't thought much of it at the time – he had kicked down her door at 3 am, after all, it had been a logical enough reaction – his mind flashed back to a few days prior, when he'd found her in a restless sleep in his own bed. He was sure he'd never forget the way she'd cried out for him in her sleep – it had hit him like a brick in the chest – and something she had said before she'd fully woken up drifted into his mind.

_You know I hate it when you see me like this_, Zane had heard her murmur, as if it were something to which they had both become well accustomed. This was a regular occurrence for her, and he was willing to bet this wasn't the first time he'd been there at 3 am. Zane clenched his jaw at the thought. This, then, was just one more… _blank_ in his memory. He wondered if the not-knowing would ever cease to grate on him, as Jo shifted in her sleep. He'd always had a near-compulsive need to know anything and everything that intrigued or interested him; but this – this was beyond intriguing or interesting. This was supposed to be his _life_. The woman on that couch had been _loving_ him for two years, and if the ring around her neck was anything to go by, it had been the best thing that had ever happened to him. He wanted to know _how_ it had happened; _when_ it had happened. He wanted to know why she loved him. He _needed_ to know why she loved him.

The whistle of the kettle jolted Zane from his thoughts, and he dropped the dishrag he'd been clenching in his hand in his surprise. Glancing at Jo once more, he leaned over and grabbed it from where it had landed, next to his feet, and tossed it on the counter, then grabbed the kettle from the stove and began preparing the two mugs. He finished his coffee in just a minute, and hesitated over Jo's tea, frustrated to realize he had no idea how she'd want it prepared. Fed up with coming upon yet another detail he should already know, he prepared himself to wake Jo and ask, when a speculative thought came to him. If he should know… maybe he did know, somehow. Nobody knew how time travel worked; time travel wasn't _supposed_ to work. Everyone who'd been through the wormhole remembered; couldn't the information be preserved, somewhere, in his neural circuits? It was a long shot, but… he checked the tea pot speculatively. There was enough warm water left for another cup if he needed it. He closed his eyes and tried not to think, which was a challenge for his constantly whirring brain; he didn't want an analysis of how Jo _might_ like her tea – he wanted a purely instinctive guess. He opened the cupboard full of baking ingredients and spices where she'd stored her tea, and grabbed the first things which came to mind, which turned out to be honey and vanilla extract. Trying not to second guess himself, he added a generous amount of honey and a few drops of the vanilla extract, put them back in the cabinet, and stirred the tea quickly.

Feeling unreasonably nervous, he carried the coffee and the tea over to the couch and placed them on the coffee table in front of Jo, who was still fast asleep. He slid onto the cushion beside her and caressed her hair with a cautious hand.

"Hey, Jo-Jo," he murmured. "Time to wake up." He shook her awake gently and she stirred, slightly disoriented and rubbing her eyes with the hand her head had rested against. He smiled at her. "I've got your tea," he said, and offered it to her once she'd opened her eyes all the way. She gave him a tired smile in return and leaned forward, grasping the tea from the table and raising it to her lips. She took a sip and closed her eyes in satisfaction.

"That's perfect, thank you," she said. Zane studied her features intently, for a moment, then picked his own drink off the table and settled in on the couch, contemplative. The two of them sat together, Jo's bare feet brushing against the rough denim of his jeans, until Jo got a look at a nearby clock and was startled into motion. She gulped down the rest of her tea and set the empty mug down on the coffee table.

"It's late, I have to get to GD," she said apologetically. He smirked suggestively in response.

"We can always go late," he said with a meaningful look, and she narrowed her eyes at him.

"Some of us like to actually _do_ our jobs," she said pointedly, hands on her hips, and Zane was amused to find she could look fierce even wearing a fluffy bathrobe. He grinned and held up his hands, signaling his harmless intent, though his mind had already progressed to wondering if her irritation would be as fearsome _without_ the bathrobe. Something in his eyes must have given away his thoughts because she paused, shook her head and vanished through the door before he had a chance to act on them. Zane's smile was rueful as he picked up their mugs and headed to the kitchen sink, knowing he was going to see her emblazoned behind his eyelids every time he closed his eyes today. He was placing the freshly rinsed mugs in the dish rack by the sink when Jo stepped through the door in her black suit and a bright blue blouse, her hair pulled back into her customary ponytail. The sight of Lupo ready for business, gun strapped to her waist as always, made him tense up instinctively; but she gave him a little smile, discomfort obvious, and just like that he relaxed. He may never know exactly what to expect from the new and improved Jo Lupo, but so far the surprises had all been pleasant. Zane stepped around the counter and approached her, stopping just a little too close for her comfort and with a smile that made her begin to feel weak at the knees. Her eyes widened a fraction as she looked up at him, her pupils dilating with reluctant desire.

"Off to work?" he asked quietly, and she nodded almost imperceptibly, mouth dry.

"Will I see you tonight?" he asked, a hint of huskiness to his tone. She swallowed deeply, distracted by his proximity.

"I – um. We should talk to everyone tonight." She managed to stammer out, licking her lips unconsciously. Zane's gaze flickered immediately to her lips, any control he might have had over the moment evaporating promptly.

"Just tell me when and where," he said, distracted. She _hmm_ed an affirmative, and the pursing of her lips which accompanied the sound was the last straw. Zane swept down, claiming her lips with his and pulling her closer, hands caressing the small of her back. Her hands flew up to the back of his neck, burying one in the soft hair at the base of his neck and sliding the other one forward to stroke the curve of his face. They were both lost in the increasingly heated kiss, until Zane pulled her harder against him and her gun shifted uncomfortably on her hip, reminding her she was supposed to be leaving for work. She pulled back, breathing hard, but Zane kept her pinned close, leaning his forehead against hers, focusing on her eyes and raising one hand to brush a stray wisp of hair out of her face. "_Jo,_" he gasped, equally breathless, and a liquid heat shot through her, in spite of herself. He kissed her again, lingering and tender, the hand which had smoothed away her hair toying delicately with the edge of her ear and making her twitch with desire; but this time when she broke away his grip wasn't enough to keep her in place.

"I – I have to go to work," she blurted out as she backed away. She turned for the door, feeling shaky on her feet, when she heard his voice behind her.

"Jo," he said once more, voice low, and she turned around slowly. He didn't move an inch, but the intensity written in his stare pinned her in place as effectively as his arms had only moments before. His eyes were dark with unspoken emotions that she didn't dare identify. "You can leave - but you don't get to run. Not this time," he said simply. She opened her mouth to reply, but he had rendered her effectively speechless. Another minute passed, Jo finding it difficult to meet Zane's eyes. Finally, she took a deep breath and looked up.

"I'll see you tonight," she said, and walked out, the front door swinging shut behind her.

* * *

Disclaimer: I have pretty much nothing to do with the production of Eureka. But I'd love to be a fly on the wall of _that_ set.

A/N: Soooo, about this chapter. Sorry it took so long. It was a beast to write, seriously. I tried it about ten thousand ways, and first Jo wouldn't make up her mind, and then Zane started getting all these ideas, and finally I just gave in and let them do what the hell ever they wanted. I was really just along for the ride. I could probably have kept going - I already have some upcoming scenes with other characters written - but I suspected you'd all be thrilled to see the chapter, and it _was_ at my typical length. Also there's this organic chemistry test I might _actually_ fail on Monday if I keep writing this chapter. Still, short of cooking I don't expect you'll have much competition for my love and affection and attention for the next week, so hopefully our characters will be obliging and there will be another update sooner rather than later.

Peace out.

ADM


	8. Chapter 8

Everything Is Illuminated

Jo strode purposefully through the halls of GD, attempting to affect the appearance of confidence which she was sorely lacking at the moment. It had been a substantial challenge to maintain a professional veneer while working at GD for the past two months, but in the last week it had reached an entirely new level of difficulty; even so, in comparison to all preceding days, today was off the charts. She sighed and rounded the corner into the infirmary on the last vestiges of her nervous energy, which sputtered out the moment her eyes landed on Allison in her familiar white lab coat leaning intently over a computer screen in the central podium of the infirmary. Jo hesitated, considering turning around and changing her mind while Allison was still preoccupied. But she knew this time had to come eventually, and Allison was already lifting her head from the computer monitor. Jo offered her a smile, but it was strained and uncomfortable.

"Allison… hey," she began, but Allison cut her off.

"Jack mentioned you might need to come by. To tell you the truth, I was going to come find you myself if I had to." Her eyes were sympathetic. "I understand you've had some news," she prompted, startling Jo into speech.

"Ah… yes," she admitted, wondering just _what_ Jack had told Allison. "I'm pregnant," she admitted, nervous, though it was obvious that Allison already knew. She stood at the edge of Allison's platform, her hands wrapped in front of her. Allison's own hands were already in motion, pulling instruments from drawers and tapping at the keyboard. Jo watched the flurry of activity, feeling vaguely surreal.

"You must have taken a commercial test, then?" Allison asked briskly. Her tone was businesslike, which Jo appreciated.

"Yes. I hope that's not a problem?" Jo queried with hesitation. Allison shook her head.

"No, those tests should be fairly accurate by this stage," she said absently, then paused as a thought occurred to her. "You are sure the, ah, date of conception would have been at least two months ago?" Allison asked awkwardly, remembering the undertones she'd been sensing between the two since Jo had protected Zane from being redacted and returned to federal prison due to Allison's own reckless behavior. Jo flinched with guilt and embarrassment, thinking of the night before. She was sure, all right, but what Allison was suggesting wasn't so implausible.

"I'm sure," she muttered, "It should have been about two months ago." She stated, preferring to avoid going into detail, evading Allison's perceptive gaze as thoughts of last night drifted through her mind. Allison scrutinized Jo's medical files.

"According to this, your last comprehensive exam was about four months ago," Allison said, clicking through the documents. She looked up. "Does that sound about right, even… you know, under the circumstances?" She asked, giving Jo a significant look and trying to allude to the timeline changes covertly. Jo nodded. "So you should have had all the standard tests already," she mused.

"Okay, well, I'm going to draw some blood and run some tests, make sure everything's normal. It's been an eventful two months, after all." Allison pointed out, not without a certain degree of amusement. Jo didn't particularly share that amusement.

"You can say that again," Jo complained. Allison withdrew a blood sample from Jo's left arm with practiced ease and inserted a portion into nearby medical machinery for analysis. Her dark eyes fixed on the computer screen in front of her, Allison asked with deliberate casualness,

"So Jack tells me you've told Zane already?" Jo's eyes shot up to Allison's face, but her eyes were still fixed on the screen.

"I have," Jo confirmed, wondering where Allison was going with this. Allison nodded, seeming initially blasé, but she raised her eyes to meet Jo's over the computer screen.

"Are you sure that's wise?" she queried gently, and Jo looked at her as if she'd been struck.

"Allison, he has a right to know he's having a kid, even if it raises uncomfortable questions," Jo replied, defensive. Allison nodded, seemingly understanding, but frowned slightly as she asked her next question.

"Why didn't you bring him with you?" Jo froze. Why _hadn't_ she brought him with her? She opened her mouth to respond, to brush off the comment without a second thought; she shut it abruptly, a sinking feeling building in her chest as she realized she had no answer to give. It hadn't even occurred to her to invite Zane to this first exam, and she had an unnerving feeling that, were the circumstances different, he'd be right next to her in the infirmary. She looked away, unable to respond.

Allison's eyes flickered to Jo's silent figure, analysis in their gaze, but quickly returned to scanning the results on the screen before her.

"Well, you _are_ pregnant, Jo," she confirmed easily. "And yes, Zane is the father." It took a moment, but the words jolted Jo out of her silent contemplation. She stared at Allison with disbelief.

"What? Of course Zane is the father!" she protested. "I think it would know if it was someone else!" Allison winced.

"I'm sorry, Jo; it's just that, given… the, ah, situation, it really is unusual that you'd be carrying Zane's child." Allison paused, giving Jo a moment to register what she was saying. At waist level, just out of the sights of the security cameras, Allison made a _come here_ gesture. Jo stalked over, slightly perplexed and more than a little annoyed, as if to look at the test results over Allison's shoulder. Allison grabbed a pen and paper and located them strategically where they'd be blocked by the computer monitor. _Had to be sure it wasn't the Jo from this timeline who'd been pregnant,_ she scribbled quickly. Jo tried to minimize her reaction, but her face went pale in spite of her attempts.

"I hadn't even thought about that," she said, voice strained. "Is that even possible?" Allison hastened to reassure her, though she was remembering how Jack had mentioned seeing Dr. Grant merge with himself when they'd returned from 1947 the second time.

"None of this should be possible, Jo, but the baby is definitely Zane's. It fits with his DNA in the system." she said in an undertone, reaffirming her earlier statement. Jo nodded faintly.

"I think I need to sit down," she breathed, and Allison swiftly grabbed a nearby chair, which Jo sank into quickly. Allison cleared her throat.

"Everything else seems to be normal," she assured Jo. "As soon as you're comfortable, I'd like to do an ultrasound." Jo nodded absently, taking several deep breaths in order to quell her stress-induced nausea. She gritted her teeth and pushed herself up from the chair with her arms.

"Where do you need me?" She asked, terse from her struggle with nausea. Allison's expression was startled as she gestured to a nearby cot.

"If you'd just lie down over there – are you _sure_ you don't need a moment?" she asked, hands on her hips, worried by Jo's pallor and exasperated by her stubbornness.

"I'm _fine._" Jo snapped, face strained. "Let's just get this over with, please." Allison threw her a skeptical look, but Jo was already halfway onto the cot. She sighed and rolled over a cart with the appropriate equipment. When she looked back at Jo, her eyes were closed, and Allison thought for a moment that she'd drifted off to sleep, until her eyes opened and looked at Allison questioningly.

"If you could just tuck your shirt up higher and pull the waist of your pants down a little lower…" Allison requested. Jo unbuttoned the jacket to her suit and hiked up her bright blue blouse until most of her abdomen was exposed, up to the hem of her bra, then pushed down the edge of her suit pants a few inches. Allison rubbed the magnetic wand briefly, hoping to warm it slightly, then slid it across Jo's still-flat abdomen, and watched as the image of the fetus appeared on the screen in real-time motion.

"Meet the newest Lupo," Allison said softly, looking down at her patient, gesturing at the screen, but Jo's eyes were already fixed on the image.

"Donovan," she corrected absently, her voice hushed with awe. If Allison were a gambling woman, she'd bet that Jo hadn't even registered herself saying the word. Jo's hand drifted upwards, almost of its own free will, as if it were about to reach out and touch the screen; but she caught and restrained the impulse in short order. Allison found herself scrutinizing Jo Lupo, not for the first time that day. Her normally carefully coiffed hair was slightly mussed, her clothes askew, and the expression on her face spoke of miracles. Oh, but it was going to be a long seven months; she could tell already.

* * *

It was already noon in Eureka, and the temperature was rising into the mid-seventies as Zane sped south down the small state highway on his motorcycle. The wind whipped at the stray locks of hair escaping from beneath his dark helmet and buffeted his black leather jacket. The roadway was relatively clear, a sight which was common in the isolated areas outside Eureka. He'd already been driving for an hour and had encountered a scant two dozen cars.

It hadn't been long after Jo had left for Global Dynamics that Zane had concluded he wouldn't be present in the lab that day. His mind was spinning six ways from Sunday, and he felt as if his skin was still dancing with sparks where she'd touched him. It left him feeling restless and unsettled. He'd actually paced her living room before hitting upon the obvious solution to his agitation, and once it had come to him he'd been out the door and on his motorcycle in just moments, stopping only to ensure her door was locked and to grab something more filling than coffee from Café Diem. Within a half hour he was on the road out of Eureka, with only one destination in mind.

Zane signaled a left turn and took the exit from the highway, followed by a series of turns until he was driving on a narrow though well paved country road. The road ahead was thickly lined with trees, so much so that the area was slightly dimmed in comparison to the highway. Rays of light slanted through the bright green leaves, painting patterns of the brush and the forest floor. There were no other cars to be seen in either direction. As he slowed down at the turn in to another familiar road, this time made of dirt, Zane felt something tightly clenched inside him release. He switched off his engine, coasting to a stop, and walked his motorcycle onto the rough dirt road. From there it would be about a ten minute walk down the dirt road to his destination, Zane knew, but he was feeling surprisingly tolerant of the obstacle. He pressed on down the road, appreciating the scenery and his sudden ability, sans motorcycle, to hear the bird song drifting between the trees.

It wasn't long before he arrived at his destination, motorcycle in tow. Zane took a moment to study the scene before him, which appeared to have changed only negligibly since he'd last been in the area. The building in front of him was looking a little worse for the wear than it had when he'd first visited as a kid of ten. It had been through an extended period of vacancy since he'd first purchased it, the year he'd moved to Eureka – on a whim, with his first two paychecks, before he'd realized that life in Eureka was going to be an ongoing battle to avoid being tossed into jail. That ongoing battle had made it very nearly impossible to visit since. After a while he'd stopped bothering to try, as was the case with so much about his life in the last two years.

The windows were boarded up and the wilderness had begun to encroach, not just on the surrounding yard but also the house itself. The path winding through the forest to the lake beyond had become so overgrown as to be nearly indiscernible. Zane eyed it critically, propping up his motorcycle before approaching the building with habitual wariness. He pulled a set of keys from the pocket of his jeans and skirted the pile of old wood along the side of the house, heading for the front door and noting that both the tan paint of the walls and the blue paint of the trim were beginning to peel. The white door looked grimy and Zane felt a fleeting moment of guilt as he took in the general state of disrepair. He still had bright, shining memories of a cherished summer spent basking in the affection of his mother and grandmother, interspersed with time spent wandering the areas around the forest and the nearby lake, just a few years before he'd started at MIT. It had been a particularly blissful period for their little family, during his mother's summer sabbatical from her work at the university. His grandmother had experienced her first stroke a few years later.

He slid the key into the door and swung it open, stepping inside. It was a moment or two before his eyes adjusted to the gloom inside, which was marked in comparison to the sunny day outside. Some light streamed in through the cracks between the boards, drawing bright lines across the dusty floor and kitchen cabinets. Zane's hand reached automatically for the light switch by the door, but paused as he recalled all the utilities in the house had been turned off. Fortunately, there was a flashlight in the saddlebags on his bike. He squinted his eyes, trying to get a better view of the dark room, but ultimately gave it up as a bad job and backtracked to the motorcycle to grab the flashlight from his emergency kit. In short order, he was back at the threshold of the house, switching on his flashlight and following its path with his eyes.

He was, he admitted to himself, somewhat dismayed at what he saw. The linoleum on the kitchen floor was curling up and away from the wall in the corner, the wallpaper in the neighboring living room was peeling by the window, and the whole house had a musty smell to it. He suspected that more than one family of mice had nested in the chewed up carpet in what he thought had once been his room. All of the furniture was long since gone, and he'd found an honest-to-goodness _bat_ nesting in the linen closet. He was absently grateful that there was no attic to speak of; no doubt there would have been a whole damn family of raccoons ruling the roost. But no matter how deteriorated it might be on the surface, this had still been the location of some of his fondest childhood memories, and as he began to look beyond the superficial decay, he began to see something rather different.

In his mind's eye, the wallpaper smoothed itself out; the linoleum was replaced by a decent set of ceramic tiles; the boards vanished from the windows; a fresh coat of paint appeared in the kitchen, and a familiar woman with dark hair that curled ever so slightly at the ends sat in an armchair in the living room, a small, dark haired child cradled in one arm, the latest copy of _Military Ma'am_ propped up with the other. When he entered the room, she looked up and gave him a smile that warmed him from his head to his toes, and the tousle-headed child's head shot up to gaze at him with a flash of the most brilliantly blue eyes…

Zane shook himself loose from the unexpected daydream, chalking it up to a sentimentality which this place of all places tended to bring out in him, and turned from his scrutiny to the bright flash of daylight outside the door. He suddenly needed the clarity of the sunlight, though all it was liable to do now was burn his eyes after standing around in that dark room. He crossed the room to the front door in just a few quick strides, and after a moment of adjusting to the bright light of day he headed for the path to the nearby lake.

He'd noticed the path was looking a little overgrown as he'd walked his motorcycle into the clearing, but it seemed he'd underestimated the state to which the forest had reclaimed the little path through the woods. The path was only evident in the way the thinner foliage and shrubbery cut a visible scar through the underbrush of the forest; otherwise, he felt as if he was bushwhacking more than he was following a trail. This would have to be dealt with, too, he realized, and added it to the burgeoning list that he was forming despite himself in the back of his mind. Even as he tried to convince himself that he was only here for curiosity's sake, a part of him knew already that he was going to go through with this project that had sprouted in his mind over the hours since he'd woken to face the strange new reality that he was welcome in Josefina Lupo's life and bed.

He struggled through the last few feet of brush and stepped out into a grassy clearing which subsided into a sandy beach, scattered with pebbles. The lake was narrower at this end, the beach on the opposite side small but clearly visible from the edge of the water. The forest on the other side brushed the edge of the lake and lay flat for a few yards, but quickly ran up against the base of a small mountain, the reflection of which glimmered in the water. Zane remembered the water having seemed deep and icy cold at ten; he wondered how skewed his perception at the time had been by his scrawny stature and his youth. He eyed the water speculatively, not quite inclined to take the plunge and test his memory but intrigued just the same. Would it be safe for a younger child, or would they have to be constantly on the lookout, he wondered absently.

Zane carefully selected a handful of flat pebbles and whipped them from his hand across the water, skipping them with an expertise born of that long-ago summer's worth of practice. He watched the ripples in the water dispersed from the point of impact and into their surroundings. His own reflection in the water wavered as the ripples spread, buffeted by the displaced water. The movement caused the sun's rays to dance and skitter across the water's surface.

Zane tossed his last pebble and turned to the grass, sinking onto the ground and stretching out on the grass. He checked his watch: just half past one. He let out a little half-sigh and closed his eyes, basking in the pleasantly warm day. This was clearly the perfect time and place for a nap – it had been a long night, after all, and who was he to resist fate? The last thing he saw behind his eyes, before the steady lapping of the water against the shore lulled him to sleep, was the way Jo had looked at him that morning, his engagement ring draped along the valley between her breasts. _Perfect,_ his drowsy mind suggested to him, and he'd drifted off to sleep before he could even begin to convince himself otherwise.

* * *

Many hours later, the five time travelers had convened at Henry and Grace's home, night having long since fallen. Jo was the last to arrive, and with a quick glance behind her, she shut the front door and joined the rest of the group. She settled gracefully into an armchair the color of deep burgundy, placed by the arch which opened from the front hall into the living room, and fixed her eyes on the plush cream colored carpet as she steeled herself for the conversation ahead. Grace's gaze was knowing as she ushered her into the living room, to Jo's embarrassment. It never ceased to amaze her how quickly news spread in this town.

"Okay, we're here, we're ready, now will somebody _please_ tell me what on earth is going on?" Fargo asked impatiently. He, at least, didn't seem to be up on the latest gossip. She wasn't entirely sure whether that was better or worse. All eyes turned to Jo, and Fargo scowled.

"Am I really the only one who doesn't know?" he complained. Jo looked down at her hands, feeling distinctly uncomfortable, while the other four exchanged knowing glances. Fargo interpreted their expressions with ease and pouted.

"Why doesn't anyone tell me _anything_?" Carter grinned, but this one was Jo's story to tell. She crossed her arms over her chest.

"It's Zane," she said, and to tell the truth it was something of a relief to admit to this – like tearing off a band-aid. Fargo groaned, bouncing out of his chair and pacing with nervous energy.

"I _told_ you he was trouble! What has he done now? Does he know something?" She fidgeted in her seat, trying not to wring her hands with nerves.

"He knows everything," she said quietly. Fargo's eyes widened to what would be a comical degree, in any other circumstance.

"_What_?" he hissed, panic-stricken. She took a deep breath.

"I told him." She admitted uncomfortably, understanding that by doing so she'd taken matters into her own hands and put others at risk. Her eyes strayed to the window across the room, where they caught a flash of white from outside. Fargo stared at her, blinking, owl-like in his puzzlement.

"I – ah – I'm sorry, _what_?" He paused. "Why… would you do that? Why would you do that!" he repeated, raising his voice the second time, his voice becoming increasingly high-pitched.

"I'm pregnant." She said, feeling suddenly calm and accepting of the situation – it was what it was, after all – and he gaped at her. His eyes flickered to her stomach and back to her face, mouth in a perfect 'o.' Henry and Grace, who had of course only heard the latest gossip from Café Diem up to that point, looked only slightly less surprised. It was Grace who first jumped back into action.

"Congratulations, Jo!" she enthused, striding across the room and leaning down to hug her. Jo stiffened, not much for being hugged by people she barely knew; Grace realized her error a moment later, remembering that this Jo Lupo didn't know her nearly as well, but she stubbornly refused to pull away over the realization. Instead, she leaned in and whispered in Jo's ear.

"If you ever need to talk, you know where to find me… I know a little something about seeing the man you love change in front of your eyes." She pulled away, brushing a hand gently across Jo's temple, then settled both hands on Jo's shoulders, and gave her a serious gaze. Jo nodded mutely in acknowledgement, though it wasn't really something she had considered before, and probably wasn't something she was likely to consider in the future. Grace stepped away and Jo looked to Henry, who gave her a nod and a smile.

"I'm glad to see things working out for you, Jo," he said, looking sympathetic. Jo gave him a grateful smile in response.

"Carter," Fargo demanded, "This is insane. Aren't you going to do something about this?" Jack rolled his eyes from his spot with Allison on the loveseat.

"Like _what_, Fargo. The baby isn't exactly going to vanish, you know," he said, and even Fargo knew better than to suggest otherwise, "She can't just explain it away. It certainly didn't appear out of thin air." He raised an eyebrow.

"Well if _that's_ the issue, _I'll _be the baby daddy!" Fargo shot back at him. Jo shot Fargo an incredulous look. Allison looked as if she were stifling a laugh.

"Think again, Fargo," Jo said flatly, starting to get irritated by Fargo's obstinance. Jack interceded, trying to look appropriately stern, though the corners of his mouth were twitching with amusement at the thought.

"A father has a right to know his kid, Fargo," he said pointedly. "Whether he remembers the – ah - circumstances, or not." Jo looked as if she wished she could sink into the floor or vanish altogether.

"But, Carter, this impacts Zoe too – " Fargo protested, but Jack cut him off.

"As Zoe has reminded me _many_ times, she's an adult and she can take care of herself." Jack didn't look entirely convinced as he said the words, but he knew the damage on that front had already been done.

"O_kay, _well, if you're all done debating the future of my child," Jo gritted out, annoyed, "It only seems fair to remind you that I've already _told_ the father everything, making this all _irrelevant_, and I included the obvious necessary details like how the hell this is even possible. So you _might _be more interested in knowing he's been waiting to come in this whole time."

"Well, by all means invite the felon into our top secret meeting!" Fargo ranted. Jo gave him an incredulous look, but opened the door and jerked her chin in a motion suggesting _well get the hell in here already_. Zane strolled in from where he'd been waiting outside, looking nonchalant, with a touch of smug. Jo narrowed her eyes at him, not liking the prospect of the scene his expression surely promised. She would be damned before she admitted it to anyone, including herself, but she wanted, just a little bit, for him to make a good impression for _once_ on these people that she considered her friends.

"How do we know we can trust you?" Fargo demanded immediately, trying to look imposing but mostly looking flustered and intimidated.

"Hey, I helped you before, didn't I?" Zane responded smugly, leaning jauntily against Jo's armchair. Annoyed with his attitude, she gave in to a whim to pinch him sharply and subtly on the inner skin of his elbow, which she knew for a fact would sting like hell. He threw her a dirty look, so brief that it completely escaped Fargo's notice, and she felt the corners of her mouth twitch into a ghost of her own smirk. Unfortunately, it only encouraged his mischievous nature, which she really ought to have foreseen. He shifted in his position until his left hand drifted to the edge of the chair's arm closest to her and slipped down the fabric to the delicate and incredibly sensitive skin of her inner arm.

Zane kept his own eyes focused on Fargo, the sardonic grin still firmly in place. However, had Jo been able to bring herself to look him in the eye, the sudden appearance of a familiar teasing twinkle would have warmed her with its familiarity and yet not surprised her in the least. Unfortunately, Jo was too busy to see it, trying not to squirm under a headlong rush of desire as Zane stroked a familiar callused thumb over the length of her inner wrist, which sharply hindered her usually keen observational skills. She swallowed, hard, straining to pay attention. As usual, Fargo was wildly oblivious, though the smirk Jack was suddenly hiding in his cup of coffee strongly suggested he was not.

"Uh, yeah, but only because you got a quantum fluctuation generator out of it," Fargo shot back at Zane. Jo jolted back into reality, uncertain what was going on.

"Aw, come on, what did you expect?" Zane griped, throwing his hands up in the air. _Right,_ Jo thought. _1,001 reasons not to trust Zane. Keep up, Lupo. _Damn, but he was distracting.

"You didn't just have me violate the terms of my parole; you had me commit a felony. I asked for information, you said no, so I came up with another reward for myself." He smirked unapologetically. "Just think of all the things I could _do_ with a quantum fluctuation generator. Really it was a win-win for you." Zane's fingers and his thumb suddenly traveled down her arm and began caressing Jo's own thumb between them. She may have twitched, just a little.

Carter must have noticed the increasing desperation on Jo's face, because he chose that moment to intervene.

"Fargo, Jo's right; we don't really have any choice but to trust Zane," he reminded Fargo pointedly, and gave Zane an acknowledging nod. "Besides," Jack added, and now his eyes were fixed firmly on Zane, "He has something to protect now, too." _That_ wiped the smirk from Zane's face as quickly as the flip of a switch, and his hand paused in its clandestine administrations as he shifted uncomfortably on his feet. He had nothing witty to say to that.

"_Fine_," Fargo huffed, dropping back into his chair in an ill temper. "But General Mansfield isn't going to like this _at all_." Zane, Jo and Jack all rolled their eyes in response, but Allison looked concerned.

"Jo, I did some digging after you left this morning," she began, and Zane glanced at Jo for a moment, slightly startled. "It looks to me as if you're going to have to submit a notification of your pregnancy to the DOD." Allison admitted. Jo stared at Allison.

"What?" she said, tone disbelieving. Allison ran a hand through her hair, tossing it back over her shoulder.

"Given your prominent position in GD security, there are safety protocols in place for the situation," she admitted. "You're constantly exposed to a high risk environment. It's important that we keep your condition closely monitored, and we're required to notify the DOD of the situation." Jo gaped at Allison, unable to process what she was hearing.

Zane's amusement had been completely stripped from his face, leaving behind an increased sense of solemnity. There was steel in his eyes as he considered her words, and it sent a chill down Allison's spine. There was something _sharper_ about this Zane that unnerved Allison in a way the old Zane never had. She cleared her throat nervously.

"Fargo's right," he said, surprising the entire room. "Mansfield won't like this at all – I assume the DNA tests will be included in those reports?" Allison nodded reluctantly. Zane shook his head derisively. "Invasive bastards," he muttered, and flexed the hand they'd planted a tracker in upon his arrival in Eureka. He looked down where Jo sat in the chair, lost in thought, and his eyes softened, his expression suddenly troubled.

"They're not going to make it easy on you, Jo-Jo," he said, ill at ease. He enveloped her hand in his own, caressing her palm with his thumb again. This time his touch was tender, his underlying concern obvious. The room was suddenly hushed. She looked up at him, her hazel eyes luminous and her mouth slightly open in surprise. Then she blinked, and smiled wryly.

"You think I can't give as good as I get?" Zane actually laughed, finding himself once more charmed unexpectedly by Josefina Lupo.

"Guess I forgot who I was talking to for a minute there," he said dryly, a fond smile on his face. "My mistake. Won't happen again." Her eyes sparkled, and she treated him to a brilliant smile.

"See that you don't," she said, eyebrows raised. Fargo cleared his throat loudly.

"Not to interrupt the eye-sex, or anything," he sniped, "but learning that you two can actually agree about something doesn't really solve our problem here." Zane threw Fargo an exasperated look.

"Relax, Fargo," he said disparagingly. "If Mansfield discovers your dirty little secret, it won't be Jo and I who give it away. We'll act our little hearts out, and the most Mansfield will ever suspect Jo of will be _strikingly poor judgment_," he mocked, intoning the last three words in perfect imitation of General Mansfield's own words. His spot-on rendition of Mansfield made Fargo flinch reflexively, and Jo cringed at the thought of explaining herself to the General. Zane must have caught her expression because he gave her a half-apologetic smile. Silence reigned for a moment, and Zane's eyes slid to the front door where he'd come in. He turned back to his audience and quirked an impatient eyebrow, his fingers wrapped in the belt loops at his waist and his posture radiating insolence.

"So if you're done with the interrogation, I was thinking I'd treat my baby mama here to dinner," he said, flippant. The group in the room stared at him, speechless, unable to do anything but nod, and the heads which swiveled when Jo stood from the armchair were wondering if death and dismemberment were imminent. The disbelief in the air was palpable when all she did was smile at the man disarmingly and wrap her hand around his, heading for the door without a word. He threw a cocky grin over his shoulder back at them as she pulled him through the door, but they suspected that it vanished from his face fast enough, as in the ensuing silence they heard a small _thud_ and sudden exhale sounding like an _oof_ from outside, followed by:

"_Ow!_ Hey! What was that f – ?" Zane's familiar voice was cut off suddenly by what sounded like a muffled embrace, even from inside the house. A few minutes later, they heard the familiar sounds of ignition from Zane's motorcycle and Jo's car. The four time travelers remaining in the living room eyed each other with resignation, all thinking something along the lines of _second verse, same as the first!_ while Grace watched the proceedings with interest and no small degree of amusement; there was, she reflected, nothing in the world quite like watching someone _else's_ problems, to make you feel better about your own.

* * *

Disclaimer: The usual. Non-ownership, non-profit, etc. etc.

A/N: So here's a giant beast of a chapter, at least compared to the rest of these chapters, which I hope makes up in some small way for the delay in its arrival. Things are getting busy here - there are only like three or four weeks left of the semester - so updates might get a little spotty. But never fear! I have bits and pieces of later chapters written already. I have no intention of letting this story fall by the wayside. Incidentally, who is totally pumped for the holiday episode? I know I am. And I have to say - my favorite thing about this chapter? Writing Fargo. He's so prone to _blurting_ things, he makes an awesome devil's advocate/antagonist. Though he's doing better in this timeline. Anyways, if you could touch base and let me know we're still good, that would be lovely as always.


	9. Chapter 9

RATING WARNING: I think most people would generally consider this chapter to be M-rated.

* * *

Everything Is Illuminated

In the end, Jo and Zane found themselves opting out of dinner at Café Diem that evening. Their entrance through the café door together, shortly after having left Henry's, culminated in an eerie silence as most of the eyes in the café swiveled to the door and silverware was temporarily forgotten, suspended between mouths and plates. The silence thickened the air until they felt as if it was pressing on them from every side. Jo squirmed imperceptibly under the attention, shifting from one foot to the other with unease as they made their orders. Zane caught the slight motion and ran a quelling hand from the curve of her waist to her hip, giving her a sideway glance and causing her to still in response. She leaned into his embrace almost imperceptibly, and he turned his attention back to the uncomfortable looking chef.

"To-go, Vincent, if you don't mind." Zane said calmly as they made their orders, even as he felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise with the cumulative force of the stares at his back.

"No – ah – no problem, Zane." Vincent stammered, his eyes darting with curiosity to Jo then back to Zane's carefully impassive face. Zane quirked an eyebrow, a hint of intimidation in his stare, and Vincent scurried away into the kitchen. Jo elbowed him, none too gentle.

"If you could at least _try_ not to be an ass?" she muttered in an undertone. Zane's eyes glinted with amusement as he looked down at her.

"And here I thought you liked my ass, Jo-Jo." He responded smugly. Jo narrowed her eyes.

"Just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean I can't _tase_ that ass, Zane," she growled under her breath. Zane's grin widened and he pulled her closer to his side with the arm wrapped around her waist. Any kind of retribution was forestalled when Vincent reappeared with their food, looking nervous. His eyes flickered to the nosy crowd behind them.

"Bacon cheeseburger with blue cheese, and a greek salad." He said, holding up the bag as an offering. Zane snagged it casually and Jo offered Vincent a sympathetic smile.

"Thank you, Vincent." She said, and he smiled back uncertainly.

"Have a pleasant evening, you two," he said. Jo nodded at him in acknowledgment, and pushed through the door of the café to step into the warm night, Zane's arm still wrapped loosely around her waist. Before the door had even swung closed all the way, Zane and Jo could hear the eruption of noise and gossip behind them. She closed her eyes briefly, sighing, and when she opened them again she was startled to find Zane's face only inches away, a smile playing on across his lips. He transferred the bag of take out to the hand at her waist and raised his newly freed hand to cup her face lightly, stroking away a stray wisp of hair and stepping in closer to press a soft kiss against her lips. Instinctively she pressed against him and deepened the kiss for a moment, until he pulled back just far enough to speak.

"How about you take the food and I'll meet you back at your place?" He said. Feeling slightly dazed, it took her a moment to process his words. He pressed the bag of food into her hands and stepped back, reluctance crossing his face momentarily as the distance increased between him and the soothing warmth she presented. He glanced at her once more as if reconsidering his decision, but inevitably swung a leg onto the motorcycle and turned the key in the ignition. He pulled out of the parking lot smoothly and sped into the night, Jo watching his form fade into the distance before turning to her own car.

Starting at the passenger side door of the front seats, Jo leaned into her car and wedged the to-go containers carefully at the foot of the passenger seat. She rounded the front of the car, opening the door to the driver's seat and sliding in. Jo gripped the steering wheel absently and sat for a moment, reflecting, her lips curved into a thoughtful smile. She glanced up at the crowded café – things seemed to be settling down inside, but it was still bustling with energy. Everything looked typical for the strange little town that she'd made her home.

Jo's smile went from thoughtful to hopeful as she turned the key in the ignition, her mind shifting to the night – and the person – awaiting her at home. Her small smile widening and spreading across her face, she pulled out of the parking space and accelerated into the night.

* * *

By the time Jo pulled into her driveway, Zane was lounging on her front step, his motorcycle nowhere in sight. His expression was equal parts amused and indignant as she pulled the bag of take out from the front seat and climbed out of the car. She'd only made it a few steps before he spoke up.

"Voice-activated lock?" he said, arms crossed casually where he sat on her front step. "Really?" Jo arched an eyebrow, mildly exasperated.

"You know, on the off-chance _somebody_ thought it might be a good idea to pick the lock." Zane's smile was both smug and unrepentant as he hopped off the stoop and strolled towards her, his hands sliding into the side pockets of his jeans.

"Gotta keep you on your toes, Jo-Jo." He said, rocking back on his heels with the force of his own enthusiasm. He looked speculatively at the door. "I'll need better tools next time." He said thoughtfully, cocking his head to the side. Jo shook her head slightly in resignation. It wouldn't surprise her in the least if she found him already lounging on her couch the next time she came home.

She stopped in front of the door and leaned in toward the microphone, muttering her password in an undertone, biting her lip and shooting a glance at Zane, hoping he hadn't heard it. There was a difference, after all, between admitting to the nature of their relationship and putting her sentimentality on display. She wasn't entirely sure that even the Zane from the original timeline would have been comfortable with playing a part in her choice of passwords. His face was unreadable, though, and if he'd heard what she'd said, it didn't show. She smiled uncomfortably at him, her insides squirming for a moment with a bout of nerves and a touch of nausea, and pushed her front door open, stepping into her dark living room.

Zane followed her inside as she flicked the switch on the wall and light flooded the room. Jo closed the door behind them and carried the bag of food to the kitchen counter while Zane perched himself on the arm of the closest sofa, quietly watching as Jo bustled around the kitchen and noting her hesitation as she gathered plates and silverware from a kitchen which was still unfamiliar to her. She shut the last cabinet and rounded the edge of the kitchen counter, surprising him by crossing the room to take a seat near him on the sofa. Twisting to look over her shoulder, she quirked an expectant eyebrow at him.

"Burger's getting cold, Zane," Jo prompted, and he slid from the arm of the sofa onto the cushion next to her, giving her a sidelong glance and tearing into his burger with gusto, realizing with some surprise how hungry he really was. She must have thrown him off more than he'd imagined, for him to forget about food so entirely. He glanced at her and frowned when he saw the way she was half-heartedly pushing her salad around on the plate. Zane opened his mouth, intending to speak up, but stopped himself quickly, casting about his mind for a better path to his goal until the perfect solution struck him. Casually he reached over and plucked a loose olive from her salad, popping it into his mouth with alacrity.

Jo's fork paused on the way up to her mouth, and he was sure she glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He could almost see the exact moment she decided to ignore him and instead finished bringing the forkful of salad to her mouth. Lips twitching with suppressed amusement, Zane waited a minute to pluck the next olive out of the salad. Jo froze. Turning her head slowly, she looked up at him, narrowing her eyes. He grinned, tossed his head back and snapped the olive into the air, catching it neatly in his mouth.

"Really?" she asked, exasperated. He snaked his arm between them once more, reaching for a third olive, but this time she was ready for him. With a quick flick of her wrist she stabbed him lightly with the tines of the fork, just hard enough for him to jerk his hand away. He looked at her reproachfully but she just smiled in response, a challenge lighting up her eyes. He held up his burger.

"Trade you," he offered. She rolled her eyes but relinquished the olive and accepted a sizeable portion of his burger in return.

"You realize this is way more burger than a few olives are worth." She pointed out. He shrugged, feigning disinterest. Looking bemused, she bit into the burger and promptly rolled her eyes back in pleasure, making a moan of satisfaction which Zane found all too reminiscent of sounds he'd heard her make only the night before, in that very room. Heat promptly flooded his body as the memories flickered to life in his mind's eye. He dropped the olive.

Cursing, Zane dropped to his knees between the table and the sofa, jarring Jo's arm and refocusing her attention in the process. He peered at the floor, quickly deducing that the olive had rolled beneath the sofa. Groaning with irritation, he lowered his torso to the floor and peered beneath the sofa, then stuffed his arm into the gap between the sofa and the floor, grasping blindly. Finally, when he began to think he couldn't stand to get any more uncomfortable than he already was, he managed to wrap his fingers around it. Heaving a dramatic sigh, he pulled out his arm and flopped onto his back, half beneath the coffee table, gazing absently at the ceiling until Jo leaned into his line of vision.

"Too bad I already finished that piece of burger, hmm?" She teased. He looked up and at her hazel eyes dancing with her amusement. _So worth it._

"And _I'm_ the smug one?" Zane said aloud, and tossed the olive at her forehead. His aim was unerring, the olive striking just above the bridge of her nose and falling with a soft _plop!_ into the salad resting in her lap. Her eyebrows shot up and she fixed him with an ominous gaze. If he'd been the praying type, Zane reflected, now would probably be the moment to start. Just how far from the sofa _was_ the taser, he wondered with a flicker of alarm. Jo reached forward and placed the salad carefully on the coffee table, restraint written in her every motion, and smoothly pushed the table away, revealing him where he'd been half-hidden beneath the table. There was an alarmingly devious glint in her eyes.

Zane's eyes widened as she slid off the sofa cushion farthest from him, balancing on her knees and straddling his lower legs. Then her hands landed on either side of his waist and she was inching up the length of his body on all fours, looking all kinds of dangerous and sexy and he definitely forgot to breathe for a moment. Her characteristic sleek ponytail was dangling from the space between her neck and her shoulder as she paused, her face level with his.

"Smug, am I?" Jo all but purred. He swallowed deeply, trying to regain the composure she'd so effortlessly shattered with the wave of desire she'd sent crashing over him. He managed to don his customary smirk, but it was strained with effort.

"Seems to me you _are _looking pretty self-satisfied, Jo-Jo." Zane dared to provoke her, but he heard his voice crack ever so subtly in the middle and suspected – or perhaps knew – that he was already sunk. Jo's smile widened, and he surmised that she knew the same. She leaned in, pressing the full length of her body against him and whispering in his ear, making his whole body twitch with desire. The words, however, made him want to laugh.

"Take it back." Zane grinned up at her unrepentantly, his body veritably on fire with the need to pull her still closer.

"Never." Jo's eyes sparkled with suppressed amusement. She tilted her head, a teasing smile still gracing her lips and the surety that she held the trump card written in her expression.

"Well, if you're sure…" she said, voice presaging trouble ahead.

"Jo-Jo, have you ever known me to second-guess myself?" Zane said, slightly distracted as he attempted subtly to sidle his arms around her and pull her close before she could think to stop him. That was the moment he realized that, sometime in the last minute or so, she'd managed to pin his arms unnoticed. With her lying on top of him, he was effectively immobilized. His eyes widened almost imperceptibly, but Jo, who had been waiting for that moment of realization, grinned. Zane narrowed his eyes in response.

"Sneaky, Jo-Jo," he said, grudgingly admiring her cunning. "But you must realize I'm enjoying myself, down here." Straining upwards, he rubbed himself against her to prove his point. Jo, however, didn't look the least bit phased. In fact, he recognized with a sinking feeling, she looked…amused. Stifling her grin, Jo leaned forward, sliding her soft cheek past the edge of his face, which was rough with stubble, and began delicately nibbling at the incredibly sensitive skin of his ear. He bucked reflexively beneath her, but pinned down as she had him, he didn't make it far. Jo's mouth began trailing down his neck, making him groan with frustration and a dawning horror as he realized he was completely at her mercy, and he already wanted her so badly it was becoming physically painful. In all the time since he'd met the woman – spent enduring an endless cycle of imprisonment and cold showers – Zane was altogether certain she'd never managed to torment him quite so thoroughly.

Her attentions to his neck transferred themselves into a full-fledged tactical assault on his collarbone, and he twisted and squirmed ineffectually beneath her, trying desperately to get some kind of release – or better yet, a grip on her – but she held fast. Finally she pulled away, her arms still pinning him in place, and smiled, slow and provocative.

"So," Jo said, in a voice so low it verged on husky, "Ready to take that back now?" Zane, though very nearly panting with frustration at this point, was defiant to the last.

"Not a chance, Jo-Jo," he breathed. She leaned forward, only inches from his face – Zane was, for a moment, certain she was giving in, and if not, well, perhaps he could persuade her with a kiss – and then, with incredible delicacy, she traced his lips with the tip of her tongue. Zane's eyes nearly rolled back into his head, but he refused to let the moment pass – lunging forward with the intention of finally capturing her lips, he fell barely an inch short. Her face was both tantalizingly close and impossibly distant.

"I think not." Jo murmured, lips twitching with amusement. He flopped back, his entire body strained with frustration and desire. His sigh turned into a chuckle touched with a hint of hysteria.

"I give, Josefina. You are not in the least bit smug and you are, of course, a goddess amongst women." He conceded dramatically, squirming both physically and mentally beneath her. Jo grinned.

"Better," she said, "But next time, I suggest you don't forget it." Eyes glinting with satisfaction, she gave him a chaste peck on the lips and climbed off him in a flash. Before Zane's somewhat lust-addled mind could process the turn of events, she was gathering plates off the coffee table and heading for the kitchen area. A moment passed: Zane lay on his back, gaping, like a fish out of water, while Jo cheerfully packed up their leftovers.

"_Really_?" he demanded, once his mind had stopped skipping like a broken record, and jumped up from the floor. Jo looked – there was no other word for it – smug.

"No idea what you're talking about." She said innocently. He growled his annoyance beneath his breath and stalked across the room. Jo paused for a moment while she tidied the remnants of their dinner, her head lowered as she watched Zane from beneath her lashes. She chose to ignore him, no outward signs indicating her thoughts aside from a quirk to the corner of her mouth. By the time he'd entered the tiled area of the kitchen, his smirk was beginning to make a comeback; when he hoisted her over his shoulder and strode to the nearby bedroom, the smirk was finally in full force.

"_Zane_," Jo protested sharply, but he just laughed.

"Jo-Jo, we are _long_ past the point in the evening when that tone is going to work on me." He said, his tone of voice sending frissons of desire through her body. She sighed dramatically and pressed her elbows into his back, bracing her head on her hands. Knowing Zane couldn't see her face, Jo allowed herself a private smile of contentment. Her propped head bobbed and swayed with each step he took, but Zane's legs were long and his stride wide, and it wasn't long at all before they'd reached her bedroom. In one quick motion, Zane swept her back over his shoulder and onto the bed, the seemingly abruptness of the motion belied by the gentle way his hands cradled the curve of her back and neck.

This time he was the one doing the straddling, and Zane took a moment to appreciate the sudden role reversal. The roguish smile on his face revealed his train of thought, but – while vengeance would be sweet indeed – his patience and restraint were wearing thin. He had a good memory (when it wasn't being subjugated by temporal anomalies) and revenge could certainly wait – he had more pressing interests at the moment, the first of which involved ridding himself of the barriers between his skin and hers.

Zane leaned forward, capturing Jo's lips with all the intensity and hunger that had built inside him as a consequence of her little joke. Jo matched him, stroke for stroke, pouring her overwhelming need for him into the kiss. He began to unbutton deftly the little black buttons of her power suit with a quick flick of his wrist, his other hand rising to pull her silky black hair out of its ponytail. Jo broke the kiss momentarily, nearly breathless.

"It ought to be illegal… how good you are at that," she gasped. Zane gave her a sly grin.

"All for you, of course, Jo-Jo." He responded, his voice teasing. Jo gave him an exasperated look.

"I meant the buttons," she said dryly, shrugging off the now loose jacket. Zane wasted no time starting in on her bright blue blouse, pausing only to grin at her suggestively:

"What can I say; I'm good with my hands." He said, inadvertently dodging the underlying question. As he flicked open a series of buttons with obvious ease, Jo's forehead was creased in thought, a knot forming in her throat as she thought of the succession of women he'd no doubt practiced those same skills on while her evil twin was busy pursuing him with a taser instead of kisses. But then her blouse was laid open and he was pressing kisses from the hollow of her neck in a line down to her navel, making her gasp and squirm with pleasure as molten warmth suffused her body and began to pool at her core.

Zane lavished attention to her breasts as a famine victim might savor a feast; alternately nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin, eliciting soft moans and sharp gasps with the sensation. He'd relieved her of the lavender colored silk bra she'd worn beneath the blouse with a murmur of appreciation, so swiftly she'd barely had time to register its absence before she'd melted once more under the sensory onslaught he was eliciting. His shirt followed her bra and blouse into the pile of clothes forming on the floor by her bed, and Zane lowered himself to her once more, bringing her into a deep kiss.

For a moment, there was nothing but their two tongues warring between them and the searing heat of skin on skin, but Zane's need for her was only getting sharper and more urgent as things progressed, and his hand slid to the clasp of her dress pants. As he quickly determined, however, this particular pair of pants would require more of him than a quick flick of the wrist. He rocked back on his heels, pulling back from Jo and studying the clasp intently, the sudden rush of air between them like a blow. He tugged at it ineffectively.

"Jo-Jo," he all but growled out through his gritted teeth, "how the hell do I get these things off of you?" She looked up at him with glazed eyes, finding it hard to focus through the haze of desire he'd evoked. Jo blinked once, willing herself to focus.

"What?" she asked. Zane gestured with irritation at the clasp.

"How do I get rid of this thing?" He demanded, annoyed and just a little embarrassed by his inability to work the simple mechanism. He was a physicist, for goodness' sake. His thesis had been on the origin singularity and had evolved into a project that generated decades worth of data to study (and which nearly single-handedly destroyed Global Dynamics, but hey, who was counting?). How on earth could this simple clasp stymie him? Jo gave him a quizzical look, which melted away once she slipped her hands between them to work the clasp, only to transform into a frown of annoyance when it proved more challenging than she'd anticipated. It took her a moment before she was able to open it, at which point she lay back and gave him an apologetic glance.

"I'm not really used to these suits yet. It was a lot easier to get out of the deputy uniform." She admitted, smiling wistfully. He thought of the way the deputy's uniform had conformed to her sleek legs. Yeah, he could've gone for that. Hell, he had, at one time. _I wonder if she still has that uniform lying around…?_ He wondered, turning his attention to those now gloriously accessible legs. Zane hooked a finger in the belt loops on either side of Jo's well-toned waist and slid the pants right off Jo and onto the floor. He swallowed hard when he saw the delicate lavender silk boy shorts beneath, and looked up, giving her a crooked smile with an underlying heat.

"Jo-Jo, had I known you were wearing these earlier, I might've had you naked right in Henry living room." He leered.

"I would've broken your arm." She pointed out; her tone so deadpan it took him a minute to register the words. Rolling her eyes, she pulled herself up in the bed and shifted onto her knees. Her dark hair tumbled over her shoulders as she edged forward and pushed Zane off the bed and onto his feet. Sliding on her knees to the edge of the bed, she reached out and deftly relieved him of his belt, tossing it onto the floor. Jo looked up at him, grinned that quicksilver grin which he was quickly learning could only mean trouble and excruciating pleasure lay in his immediate future, and tugged on both his pants and the hem of his boxers, which without his belt slid down easily and immediately pooled around his ankles.

Surprise only kept him frozen for a moment's time, and he was quickly pursuing her back onto the bed. She inched back as he edged forward, straddling her once more and sliding the sleek silk boy shorts down the smooth length of her legs. Jo held her torso propped up halfway by her arms straining behind her, her face only inches away from his. He shifted his weight to one hand and raised the other to stroke first her cheek and then the dark mane of hair tumbling down her back. Wrapping his arm fully around her back, he took Jo's weight off her hands and eased her onto her back, releasing her and pulling his arm out from under her, still crouched above her on all fours. Jo slid her legs from beneath him, one at a time, and entwined them around his waist.

"Zane," Jo murmured, looking up at him, eyes wide and expressive, and urged him forward with a gentle tug. Zane smiled fondly and pressed closer to kiss her deeply, his lips gentle and caressing. In another breath he slid inside her, Jo winding her legs more tightly around his waist. He rained delicate kisses across her face, lingering at her lips, and they both savored the moment in silence before Zane began to move, rocking slowly in and out but quickly picking up speed. Jo cried out, clasping him tightly with her legs and urging him on. As the heat between them began to crescendo, Jo grasped the sheets in her fists, clutching wildly and arching her back with pleasure as one last thrust drove her over the edge. Zane thrust once, twice more and nearly collapsed with the force of his climax, so long in coming. He buried his face in her hair, his entire body feeling boneless and his energy spent; then, remembering the baby, rolled to the side, reluctant to crush her with his full weight.

Zane wrapped a limp arm around Jo's waist where she lay next to him, languid and sated. The room was hushed and peaceful in the mid-September night as their breathing and heart rates slowed to normal, and the way the air played across the thin layer of perspiration that had built on both of them made Jo shiver and pull a sheet over them. It wasn't long before their breathing had not only returned to normal, but evened into the rhythmic breaths of a deep and sated sleep.

* * *

Jo woke with a start in the middle of the night, eyes whipping open and her heart racing, though by the time her pulse had slowed to a steady thud she could no longer recall why. As she calmed down, her eyes adjusted to the dark room and she regained some awareness of her surroundings. Zane's arm was still wrapped around her bare waist, his breathing soft and steady at her back – at some point in the night, it appeared, she'd turned onto her side and he'd unconsciously molded his body to hers in response. Light was pouring from the living room into the bedroom and with a hint of annoyance she realized that in their haste to reach the bedroom and in the subsequent haze of post-coital bliss, they'd completely neglected to turn off the lights. No doubt the speculation in town would be rampant tomorrow.

Jo shifted carefully from beneath Zane's arm, delicately placing it in the space she'd just departed, knowing from long experience (and the occasional Eureka-style late night disaster) that an abrupt departure would only serve to wake and irritate him. She paused by her bathroom, plucking the light blue bathrobe from the hook and wrapping it around herself, then padding into the living room in her bare feet. At least she'd managed to put away the food, she mused, checking the clock – just quarter past one.

Jo gathered up the bags from Café Diem, bundling them up and adding them to the collection of bags she kept for the moment a plastic bag became handy. She strolled across the room and adjusted the coffee table – it was still pressed against one of the couches from their antics earlier in the evening – eying the floor for any stray olives. Finding none, she turned to the light switch by the door – which was unlocked, the way she kept it while she was at home (after all, who would dare break into the house of GD's Head of Security?). _Most people,_ Jo thought, eying the door to her bedroom, within which lay a certain blue-eyed delinquent, _wouldn't even think to try._ It had always been the best way to ensure she could be reached at all times, whether she _was_ the emergency or she was, for whatever reason, unavailable via phone.

Jo flicked the light switch, sending the room into darkness, and made her way back to her bedroom as her eyes adjusted yet again to the lower levels of light. She paused at the doorway, eying the bed, knowing she should go back to sleep; the unease which lingered from her abrupt awakening making her reluctant to do so. Her eyes skittered toward the sliding glass door which led to her deck, currently fringed by the high tech blinds which effectively blocked out the world beyond. Jo padded to the door and felt around on the wall for the switch, hoping not to hit a light switch instead. Fortunately, she managed to locate the appropriate button and pressed it down, wincing at the slight mechanical _whirr_ produced by the gears which slid the blinds in and out of place. Jo glanced at Zane's still sleeping form, but, seeing nothing more than a twitch, quietly slid open the door and stepped onto the porch, leaving it open behind her – why make more noise than necessary, after all – and wrapping her arms around herself once outside.

Jo's new home was in a relatively deserted area of town, as had been the house Larry destroyed with his rocket. The deck on the back of the house faced the edge of the forest which surrounded Eureka with both coniferous and deciduous greenery. It was only mid-September, so the trees were still verdant and lush with life. Her new home was on an incline, placing her deck at a second-story level, although her home consisted only of the ground floor and the basement which contained her dojo and armory. A curved set of stairs ran from the deck to the ground below.

Jo crossed the deck and leaned against the railing, gazing into the dark forest which stretched out before her, appreciating the perfect stillness of the night. Only a minute or two had passed before she felt a warm hand wind itself around her waist, and she leaned into the firm lines of Zane's body, turning to kiss him gently.

"I didn't mean to wake you." She said quietly, and then: "You're practically naked." She pointed out matter-of-factly. Zane chuckled, soft and low in his chest.

"It's the middle of the night, Jo-Jo, and I don't think any of your neighbors are close enough to notice, in any case. I did put my boxers on." He responded, sounding unconcerned. She shook her head, exasperated.

"Aren't you the least bit chilly?" Zane tucked her head under his chin gently.

"I've had worse." He said simply, and Jo's mind spun back to the day another Zane had once spent in the infirmary with striated ice crystals growing inside his body – remembering how cold and lifeless to the touch he'd felt. It frustrated her that she didn't even know to what he was referring – had he even been involved in that project, in this timeline? Had that project even existed?

Her silence stretched just a little longer and a little thinner than it normally would, and Zane immediately guessed at the turn her thoughts had taken. His smile slightly more brittle than usual, he stepped back and pulled her to face him, running his hand through her now hopelessly messy hair.

"You should get to sleep, Jo-Jo," he reminded her gently. "I may not be a physician – as you so eloquently pointed out this morning," his lips twitched with amusement at the memory, "but I'm pretty sure pregnant women are supposed to get more, rather than less, sleep." Jo's reminiscence dissipated readily, and she smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling.

"That your expert opinion, Dr. Donovan?" She teased.

"It most certainly is, Ms. Lupo. _Furthermore_, I strongly recommend sexual activity as a healthy alternative to your more strenuous work-outs…" He leered at her and she punched him none-too-gently on the arm.

"In your _dreams_, Dr. Donovan." She taunted, and Zane's responding smirk was automatic.

"Always, Ms. Lupo." He purred. But his gaze as he followed her back into the house was sharper than before.

* * *

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own Eureka or anything Eureka related.

**Author's Note:**

Please don't hurt me? :) Seriously though... I hope this chapter was up to expectations because it took a month of writing and rewriting (there are, and this is the honest truth, three versions of this chapter). Most of what ended up being written in this chapter wasn't even planned... Zane and Jo were all "Um, if you're going to go through with this story as planned, the least we deserve is a quiet night at home." Seriously though, I thought they needed some character building/relationship building time more than plot right now. I anticipate many more chapters to come, don't you worry, and now that the holiday season is officially ended people will stop barging in on me and demanding my company, attention and affection. =) Oh, and - Happy New Year!

ADM


	10. Chapter 10

Everything Is Illuminated

Two weeks after revealing their relationship to the town, Jo and Zane were beginning to settle into a comfortable pattern. After their first night together, things had rapidly progressed to the point that Zane spent nearly every night sharing the bed in Jo's new home, neglecting his apartment. Certainly he could scarcely remember the last time he'd eaten there. Mornings dawned relatively early at Global Dynamics, requiring Jo's presence at GD from opening to closing and not infrequently at times outside that range as well. Zane's preference was, unsurprisingly, to sleep late – and his responsibilities were such that he easily could.

In reality, however, morning sickness tended to be deciding factor in their mornings together. On a good day, Jo was able to wake early and drop by Café Diem to gather breakfasts for the both of them, eating hers and leaving his waiting for the moment at which he dragged himself out of bed an hour or two later. But on a bad day – and the bad days tended to outnumber the good, as morning sickness went – Jo's alarm would go off, only to leave her wrapped around the porcelain toilet seat in the bathroom adjoining the bedroom while Zane mustered up the strength of will to go gather their breakfast from the café. On those days, they ate together quietly, both of them feeling disinterested in their food for two very different reasons.

After breakfast, the two of them would make their separate ways to work, Zane sometimes making a quick stop at his apartment, and neither was likely to see the other until lunch, with the exception of the occasional demonstrations. Usually he'd make an appearance in Jo's office, but on occasion Zane would find himself unusually wrapped up in work, at which point Jo would seek him out. Those days were usually spent eating take out from Café Diem at Zane's lab bench, steeling themselves to ignore the glances and jeers from Zane's lab associates. From time to time, Parrish deigned to join them and share his own dark and snide commentary with them. He and Jo were building an uneasy truce between them, but Jo's relationship with the more high-achieving, productive labs remained strained with the knowledge of her involvement with Zane, the arch enemy of all over-achieving labs, and the phantom of a budding friendship with the black sheep lab director wasn't helping.

Neither Jo nor Zane tended to leave work early – Jo was, in fact, beginning to suspect that Zane stayed late at GD not only to work without the distraction of the other researchers at his lab but also to keep an eye on her, which warmed and annoyed her all at once. When she finally decided it was time for her to close up her office and head home, she always made a point of mentioning it in advance, and almost without fail she would find him waiting for her somewhere in her path out of GD, coincidentally packed and ready to go.

Weekends played out somewhat differently. On Friday nights, they joined Grace and the other members of the time-traveling five for dinner at Café Diem, though of course nobody ever spoke of the group's shared dilemma. Instead they ate a companionable dinner together at one long table, talking and teasing about the events of the week. These dinners invariably saw Zane stiffly taking a seat at the far end of the table and speaking very little to his fellow diners, Jo occasionally running a soothing hand over his hand or his knee when he became particularly uncomfortable or tense. Zane never volunteered an explanation for his discomfort with her companions, and Jo thought it was better she didn't ask. He tolerated Friday night dinners, and to their credit Jack, Allison and the others never pushed him farther than he was willing to go, though there were always intermittent and speculative glances being made. The intimacy between them was more intense and prolonged after those dinners, and if it wasn't entirely due to the prospect of sleeping in the next morning, well, neither of them was as of yet inclined to question it.

After the emotional intensity of Friday nights, Saturdays began late and lazy in Jo's bed. Often multiple attempts to get out of bed were made and derailed by each party, due to either sleepiness or desire. By the time either Jo or Zane managed to pry themselves out of bed, it was closer to lunchtime than it was breakfast. Together they would endure a quick lunch at Café Diem, under Vincent's salaciously speculative gaze (the unusual breakfast hour never quite escaped his notice) followed by an extended goodbye in front of the café which Jack foolishly declared was on the verge of public indecency that first Saturday. Zane didn't stick around to see what punishment Jo had meted out, but the next week the most Jack did was throw them a exasperated glance as he walked into the café.

After Zane and Jo parted ways outside Café Diem, Zane would make a brief stop at his apartment to make sure everything was in order then hit the road again, this time on the route out of town. On each Saturday he returned to his old vacation home and began to make preparations, starting by renting a dumpster from the nearest town outside Eureka and beginning to tear through the damage to the building, trashing old rotting carpet and stripping the peeling wallpaper among a myriad of other odd jobs and details. He spoke to a construction company from outside of Eureka about making repairs. The owner of the small company had been surprised when he'd given him the location ("Out by that restricted access zone? But there's a whole lot of nothing out there!") As things stood, it was a necessary evil to hire an outside contractor, as using GD's official contractor would only attract scrutiny as well as tip off Jo to his extracurricular activities.

Saturday nights, Zane spent in his own apartment – reluctantly, but the town was looking at them oddly enough as it was – the last thing they needed was for people to begin claiming he'd moved into Jo's house only two weeks after they'd become an item. In a way, Zane was eager for the day they went public with the pregnancy. Once people had reason to believe they'd been involved for longer than it appeared, they could ease up on the thin line they'd been treading and focus on the relationship they'd been thrust into. Even as things stood, Zane didn't care much for these Saturday nights apart – if there was one thing he'd learned about Josefina Lupo in the last few months (and he'd learned more than he'd ever dared to imagine) it was that things went better between them when she wasn't left alone with her thoughts. It was a mistake he was loath to make again.

On the bright side, it afforded him the opportunity to gracefully bow out of Sunday morning church services, which he'd quickly realized were destined to be a weekly event. Instead, he waited for her at Café Diem's weekly Sunday brunch, affecting an apathetic facade to the inquisitive townspeople eying him, and when she arrived he was always perfectly located to appreciate the full glory of her version of 'Sunday best.' And if, perhaps, the sight of her made his breath a little shorter and his pulse a little faster: well, he'd always had a great poker face.

Two weeks passed this way, remarkable only for their normalcy (at least, by Eureka standards). But all good things must come to an end, and neither Zane nor Jo had ever lived what you might call _uneventful_ lives. Tuesday morning was, therefore, accordingly eventful.

The explosion was, of course, in section five, and it set the klaxons to blaring in Jo's office with a particular urgency, causing Jo to wonder uneasily, and not for the first time, whether the klaxons might actually have different settings assigned to indicate the relative importance of the division in crisis. The tremor which had shaken the room only moments before had been unmistakable, making the klaxons something of a moot point. Jo didn't waste a minute, springing out of her chair and sprinting out the door, pausing only to grab her security access tablet.

As she dashed toward the closest elevator, she began to access Global Dynamics' security network, which had pinpointed the location of the explosion (Section 5, just as she'd guessed) and was already scanning the air filtration system from the lab for contaminants. She quickly entered a series of commands directing her teams to the lab and commandeering the controls of the nearby elevator to temporarily alter its priority route and bring it to her sooner. She quickly perused a set of floor plans for Global Dynamics, which, she had discovered previously, came complete with the locations of all personnel, as well as project names.

Jo had been unnerved when she'd realized the biometric DNA monitor which had, in another timeline, been used to steal her identity, was up and running in this timeline. She supposed it made sense, to some degree – in this timeline Dr. Julia Golden had never been in Eureka, and no doubt her alternate ego had been thrilled to have a new method of tracking Zane's movements. Jo would be lying if she claimed she'd never once been tempted to use it for the same purpose, before she'd come clean with him; more than once she'd reflected on the sad irony that a technology which had once brought them closer together was now enabling her to keep him at an arm's length.

The ride down to Section Five was quiet, Jo scrolling through the information provided by the security network and watching the dots on the floor plans which represented her team swarming in Lab 8. Somewhere around Section Three she fielded a call from Fargo, reassuring him that yes, she had noticed the blaring klaxons and yes, she was in fact on her way to the lab in question. He, in turn, informed her that the blast had originated from the physical chemistry division, to her dismay.

Jo had a particular fondness for the physical chemists of Global Dynamics, forming the foundation of a positive relationship which had survived the revelations about her relationship with the resident troublemaker intact: perhaps in part due to the similarly unique group of personalities which resided in that department. But one of their more endearing qualities had always been the controlled nature of explosions in their departments – as chemists who blew things up as a matter of course, they'd always had a knack for predicting the violence of blasts and isolating their chemicals accordingly. She had a long-standing invitation to participate in their demonstrations, and it was something of a guilty pleasure for her. She even knew a few of them by name. Jo stared at the elevator door as floor after floor ticked by, and willed the elevator to speed up.

A lifetime later, the elevator door opened with a soft _ding_ and Jo barreled through, barely giving the door enough time to slide open. One of her men was stationed at the entrance. She gave him an acknowledging nod.

"What's the status, Wright?" She asked, pausing at the access panel.

"The fire is mostly contained, Ma'am, but there's structural damage and three injured." He responded, straightening his back unconsciously.

"Any dead?" She asked, frowning.

"Not so far, but we haven't yet been able to access the epicenter of the blast."

"Any clues what caused it?" Jo asked, not really expecting a solid answer. Wright's lips twitched with a hint of amusement, despite his best efforts.

"All due respect, Ma'am, but this is Section 5. I wouldn't dare speculate. I understand Dr. Deacon and Director Fargo are inside inspecting the damage. Perhaps they'll be able to offer some concrete answers." Both Jo and Mr. Wright were well aware it was unlikely things would go so smoothly. Jo smiled at him wryly and slid her access card through the scanner, stepping past him as the door opened. Immediately she was struck by the increase in heat and humidity, no doubt from the flames and the evaporation of the water used to extinguish them. She strode down the hall, feeling increasingly that she'd stepped into a sauna as she neared the center of the blast. The walls intended to contain such explosions were evidently also good for containing the residual heat they generated.

At the end of the first hall of Section 5, the maintenance crew was virtually buzzing with activity under the direction of her security team. Sections of wall were torn apart, wires and interior supports shredded and spilling out from the gaping hole left by the blast. Henry and Fargo stood apart from the rest, engaged in an involved discussion about the readings from the scanner with a short, round woman that Jo recognized with relief as Dr. Shelly Brown, the chair of the department. A few paces away sat the three injured, with a few first responders from the emergency medical teams. Jo took a moment to analyze the scene then made a beeline for the Henry, Fargo and Dr. Brown.

"Jo!" Fargo spotted her and looked immediately relieved. "You need to talk to these people." Jo stopped by Dr. Brown and raised an inquiring eyebrow. Fargo hastened to explain himself. "We need to get closer readings to judge the scope of the situation, and your thugs won't let us any closer to the scene." Jo shot him a censuring look, and he had the grace to look sheepish.

"My men are not _thugs,_ Fargo, they are _security professionals,_ and they're ensuring the scene is clear and stable before they allow any non-essential personnel through." She chided him. Henry raised a quelling hand and both Jo and Fargo turned to him, Fargo looking a little triumphant. Jo waited patiently for Henry to speak.

"Fargo, Jo's right. We need to let the teams do their jobs, and getting in their way is only going to slow down the process." Fargo wilted slightly under the mild reproach, but Henry continued: "However, Jo, it would be best if we could determine the source of the problem as soon as possible, and we'll need some readings for analysis before we can do that." Jo nodded sharply, and pivoted on her heel, striding with purpose toward her team.

"McCreary! Can I get a report on our progress here?" The brown-haired, burly man nodded at her respectfully.

"The floor's been reinforced from below, Chief, and it should be stable for non-essential personnel momentarily," he assured her, casting a glance at the cluster of scientists behind them. Jo gave him an appreciative, brief smile, her eyes trailing to the epicenter of the blast. What had once been a lab was now a mangled pile of wires, rubble, metal supports and broken glass, with charring and melting increasing toward the center. Maintenance crew members with fire-proof, non-conductive suits in a shade of orange that made her want to shield her eyes were conferring quietly, having extinguished the last of the flames. Fortunately the security system had automatically shut down the electrical power in the section and no live wires remained to reignite potentially hazardous materials.

"Keep me informed if anything new comes up, McCreary," she told her second-in-command, and turned around to approach Fargo, Henry and Dr. Brown, only to find that Carter had appeared while she'd been speaking with McCreary.

"Henry, my men say it should be safe for you and Fargo to approach the epicenter of the explosion for now, but – " and here she looked at Fargo " – please be sure to give them your full attention in case of any further issues. The last thing we need is for someone to injure themselves unnecessarily." Both Henry and Fargo nodded with understanding, Henry giving Jo an approving smile as they departed, filling her with the warmth of a job well done.

"The blast originated from Dr. Harrison's lab, right?" She heard Carter ask Dr. Brown and turned her attention in their direction. Frown lines creased the stout woman's face as she responded in her southern drawl.

"It is… I saw him just this morning," she commented, looking concerned. "He seemed upset… distracted, you know." She turned to Jo. "I know he wasn't there with the injured, but nobody's found…" she trailed off, looking at Jo meaningfully.

"Not so far," Jo confirmed, "but we've only just gained access to the blast site." Dr. Brown nodded distractedly. Carter, behind her, looked puzzled.

"You don't think he was in his lab when this happened?" An exasperated expression flashed across Dr. Brown's face as she temporarily forgot the situation.

"Jim had a tendency to wander away during projects." She confirmed, looking annoyed. "This isn't the first time he's been in the middle of a time-consuming procedure and wandered away, nor is it the first time that it's ended in an uncontrolled explosion." Carter muttered something about absent-minded professor types and mad scientists which both Jo and Dr. Brown elected to ignore.

"Honestly, Jo," she said, turning to Jo, "if he's not managed to blow himself up this time I may just have to kill him myself! I do have that cousin…" Dr. Brown looked thoughtful; Carter looked bemused. Jo, long since used to Dr. Brown's rambling stories about her work and her unique childhood experiences, stifled a smile and nudged Carter. He looked at her, momentarily puzzled. She raised a meaningful eyebrow.

"Carter, don't you think we ought to go investigate what was bothering Dr. Harrison this morning?" She asked patiently. He jolted where he was standing, startled from his inquisitive regard of the interplay between Jo and the peculiar chemist.

"Oh! Yes, ah – we should do that." Jack nodded his head overenthusiastically to compensate for his distraction. Jo rolled her eyes, but smiled encouragingly at Dr. Brown.

"We'll be sure to let you know as soon as we know anything, Shelly." She assured the shorter woman, then turned to leave. Jack took a moment to react before he jogged down the hallway to catch up.

"Jo! Hey, Jo, slow down!" Jo slowed slightly. Jack was breathing slightly harder when he stopped beside her.

"Shelly? Really? What's with that?" He asked, wheezing a little. Jo cast him a deliberately dismissive glance, though a little smirk was playing at her lips.

"You know Carter, I do socialize with more than four people in this town." She teased, stepping through the doors out of Section 5.

"Oh, come on Jo! You know what I meant. How do you know Dr. Brown?" Jack protested.

"Well, from… time to time… she finds it helpful to have an, uh, another munitions expert around. You know, for consultation." Jo explained carefully, trying to sound nonchalant. The elevator door slid shut behind them with a _ding_ as Jack processed her reply.

"Consultation…" He said, finally.

"Yes." Jo replied, face blank. Her arms were crossed in front of her as she leaned against the smooth metal wall of the elevator.

"…you blow things up together." Jack concluded, deadpan.

"Well… yeah." Jo admitted, suddenly studying the elevator buttons with great interest.

"Should have known." Jack sighed.

* * *

A few hours later, Jo rounded the corner of the hallway toward the infirmary, making her last stop before wrapping up the case. After she and Jack had gone to Dr. Harrison's home to speak with his wife and found her packing her things, their case had progressed rapidly. As it turned out, Dr. Brown had been right in noting Dr. Harrison's increased levels of anxiety and distraction from earlier that morning, as the massive domestic dispute which caused his wife to pack her bags had taken place only the night before. As of that morning, Jim Harrison had been destined for a divorce, and within just a few hours the explosion in his lab had occurred. Allison had since notified Carter that partial remains had been located near the center of the blast, and both he and Jo suspected the worst. An accident-prone scientist under the influence of emotional upheaval was a recipe for trouble.

Therefore, when Allison appeared distressed by her request for the autopsy results and identification of the corpse, Jo initially assumed it sprang from the natural sympathy of one scientist for another. She was promptly disabused of that notion.

"Jo, you don't mean to say that you've been down in that blast zone, have you?" Allison asked, aghast; but the increased amounts of dust and detritus on her business suit gave her away, answering the question for her.

"Of course I have, Allison, my entire security team was down there. I _am_ Chief of Security. Carter, Henry and Fargo were there too." She pointed out.

"Carter, Henry and Fargo are _not_ pregnant!" Allison retorted. Jo frowned, not really seeing the point.

"Well I certainly hope not." She laughed. Allison massaged the bridge of her nose with exasperation, suddenly feeling a headache coming on.

"Jo, the category of 'things which are bad for the baby' is not limited to caffeine and alcohol." She explained, trying to be a little gentler. "You can't be waltzing around the sites of explosions with unknown chemical components. The baby is still quite delicate at this stage." In spite of Allison's best attempts, her seemingly accusatory tone grated on Jo, who began to get a little worked up, herself.

"I wasn't exactly _waltzing_, Allison, I was doing my job!" Her voice was becoming almost imperceptibly louder as her agitation increased.

"Well, your _job _is a health hazard!" Allison exclaimed, trying to maintain her own cool. Honestly, she couldn't remember the last time she'd had such a difficult patient. She was sympathetic, truly – it hadn't been so very long since she'd chafed at the restrictions her own pregnancy had laid upon her, and she, too, had been something of a workaholic as the director of GD – but she had to make Jo see she was responsible for more than just her own health now. Allison took a deep, calming breath, thinking hard. Then she began to speak, slowly and cautiously.

"Jo… I'm putting you on restricted duty." Jo froze in disbelief.

"_What?_" She finally managed to get out, her whole tensed as if ready for battle. Allison busied herself with the stack of papers in front of her, uncomfortable looking the woman she considered her friend in the eye as she gave her this news.

"Given the unreasonably high level of risk that experimental errors at GD could pose, it would be better for you to stay out of the labs for the duration of the pregnancy. I know that Fargo usually brings you along for demonstrations and that you're used to doing all your investigations firsthand, but I cannot in good conscience allow you to go on this way." She finally looked up, the distress written in Jo's eyes making her cringe. "I'm so sorry, Jo, it's just not – " Jo cut her off.

" – safe; I get it Allison. You've got to protect the delicate pregnant woman." Now it was Jo who wouldn't look her in the eye. Allison could see the moment another thought occurred to her. "Am I still allowed to work out? Punching bags, sparring and the like?" She asked bitterly. Allison looked at her sympathetically.

"As long as you're the one on the offensive, it's fine." Allison told her, hoping the news would cheer her, but there was no discernible change in her expression. Her shoulders were stiff with her anger and frustration as she headed for the door then paused in the doorway. For a moment, Allison held her breath.

"You should get those results to Carter." Jo said shortly. "I imagine he's going to be busy without me." Then she vanished into the hall. Allison slid into the chair at her desk and placed her head in her hands. _For both our sakes, I hope that baby is a single child_, she thought wryly.

* * *

Like everybody else in Global Dynamics that morning, Zane had noticed the tremor which shook his lab and caused an assortment of precariously perched glassware to shatter, mixing a few harmless chemicals to very little effect. This was, after all, the _non-lethal_ weapons lab. Then the klaxons had sounded, and Zane had paused mid-cleanup to tilt his head, listening to the pitch of the alarms. He looked at Parrish, who had paused in cataloguing which chemicals had spilt.

"Section 5," Parrish said, furrowing his brows as he came to the same conclusion that Zane had just reached. Both Zane and Parrish, along with any number of other observant scientists in the building, were aware of the priority system that the tyrannical and judgmental Director Fargo had built into the security system (at the urging of the Enforcer herself, some believed). The non-lethal weapons lab was in the low priority range, barely a step up from mere flashing lights. Of course, recent events had demonstrated that their reputation as harmless was not entirely accurate. Zane wondered if the Jo and Fargo from the alternate timeline were aware of this system – and whether or not they had considered changing the nullweps lab's priority.

"Your mademoiselle will be busy today." Parrish concluded, sounding almost, but not quite, sympathetic. Zane glanced at the clock and realized with disappointment that there was no way he'd be seeing Jo for lunch today. Unable to hold back his sigh, he went back to neutralizing and cleaning the chemicals splattered across the floor.

After a few hours of cleaning, followed by time spent replacing the work that had been lost from the tremors, Zane glanced once more at the clock. It was around three, well past lunch already. Over the course of the workday, news had begun to trickle in regarding events in Section 5. Zane had taken in each new piece of information with a feeling of dismay and relief. It was increasingly clear that while a funeral loomed in the future of at least one GD employee, there would be no town-wide disaster to contend with today, just an isolated incident in Section 5. It sounded as if everything was under control, which was why, when Carter appeared in search of Jo, Zane was first puzzled and then alarmed.

"Zane, is Jo here?" Carter demanded the moment he appeared at the door. Zane's eyebrows shot up, but he maintained his typically disinterested demeanor. He leaned back in the swiveling chair at his computer desk, spreading his arms wide to indicate the entirety of the lab.

"Feel free to take a look, Carter, but I haven't seen my…" he hesitated, about to say 'baby mama,' but remembering his surroundings, finished lamely "…lady friend at all today. Good to know she's been keeping you busy, though. I'll have to thank her tonight," he added lasciviously. Jack, long since having made his own conclusions about Zane, rolled his eyes and failed to rise to the bait once more, knowing just how much that irked the Zane of the new timeline.

"Just – keep an eye out for her?" Carter asked, his brow creased with concern. Zane eyed him, said nothing, and watched as Carter left with a huffy little sigh. Zane's eyes flickered to the clock, and he noticed Parrish watching him.

"What?" He snapped. Parrish rolled his eyes skyward, his body language reading _God, give me strength,_ then looked back at Zane.

"Go," he sighed, resigned. Zane stared at him.

"What?" He said again, this time confused.

"Well, you're obviously going to go anyway. But first you're going to sit here, distracted and useless, until you can't stand it anymore, and then you'll leave in a temper. Please, would you just cut the crap and _go._" Zane stood, still gaping at Parrish.

"Oh. Well. Ah. Alright." He muttered, flustered, shooting another look at Parrish as he shut down the computer and its programs. Parrish merely raised an eyebrow, and Zane departed the lab, puzzled but relieved, and ready to hunt down his apparently M.I.A. girlfriend.

* * *

About a half hour later, across town, Jo let her left fist fly into the punching bag, feeling the force of the impact reverberate back up her arm with visceral satisfaction. It had been an hour since she'd left Global Dynamics, her head spinning with pent up emotions, and after a quick lunch which she barely tasted, she'd driven home to work those emotions out in the only way available to her. She bared her teeth and shifted on her feet to let her other first fly.

"Are you supposed to be doing that?" The voice came from behind her. Jo jumped about a foot in the air, whipping around as her hand shot to the gun holster at her waist reflexively. Her work out clothes being what they were, her hand grasped only air. Zane, leaning casually against the frame of the doorway at the foot of her basement stairs, raised his eyebrows in response. It didn't do much to improve her temper. She turned back to the punching bag and added the interruption to the litany of grievances she was trying to work out of her system.

"Allison says offensive work is fine." She said, only further disgruntled by the reminder of her morning, and changed the subject. "What are you doing here, Zane?" she asked between punches. "You're supposed to be working."

"What, no hello kiss?" He asked, admiring the way her muscles coiled and bunched beneath her skin with every strike she made.

"Zane, you are treading on my _last_ nerve, so I suggest you _tread lightly._" Zane frowned slightly, his eyebrows knitting together with perplexity. This was a far cry from the incarnation of Jo he'd woken up next to that morning, he realized as he picked up on the tension written in her body language. Zane had been relieved to find her down here, safe and sound and kicking ass the way only Jo could. When Carter had appeared in the lab, seeming concerned for her, this hadn't been the scene Zane had worried he'd find. Next time, he reflected, he'd suck it up and ask questions – to hell with his pride. Eying Jo, he racked his mind for a suitable explanation, unable to think what he might have done this time, and even less able to imagine what else would have set her off. He still wasn't used to seeing her angry with something or someone unrelated to him.

"Shouldn't _you_ be at work?" He questioned tentatively, and winced as the force of her next punch intensified accordingly. "Or not…" he said lamely. She muttered something in response and he cocked his head with puzzlement.

"What?" he asked, though it may have been somewhat foolhardy to acknowledge she'd said anything at all.

"I _said,_ 'what's the point, when it's glorified _desk duty_?'" She snapped, pulling away from the punching bag to send a withering glare his way. His eyebrows shot up. He couldn't imagine any universe in which Josefina Lupo would take that sitting down.

"How so?" he asked cautiously, trying not to spring the emotionally volatile trap someone at GD had apparently been kind enough to arrange for him. Was Fargo responsible for this? Revenge, perhaps? If so, it was clearly working. Jo huffed in seeming irritation, but it came out sounding just a little bit closer to a sigh. Her shoulders, previously tense with defiance, slumped.

"Allison's putting me on restricted duty," she admitted, looking suddenly exhausted. "She wants me out of the labs as much as possible. No demonstrations, no active scenes. Safety precaution, I guess." Zane paused, racking his mind for the best possible way to diffuse the situation.

"She does have a point," he said slowly – carefully. Jo narrowed her eyes at him. "That doesn't mean you have to like it." He added hastily. "But those demonstrations _are_ risky." He reminded her, once he'd ascertained she wasn't planning on snapping any of his fingers. "If I were you, I'd just think of this as a great excuse not to go." He suggested optimistically. Jo's expression was a little incredulous, looking at him, but soon settled into resignation. She smiled at him, but her face looked wan.

"I'll get used to it," she assured him half-heartedly. Zane studied her for a moment, finding the resigned expression on her face new and unsettling, and made a snap decision. Stepping closer, he planted his feet squarely on the ground, bracing his legs, and bent his knees slightly until he was in a basic defensive stance. The expression on Jo's face could not have been any more dumbfounded had he announced his intention to take a vow of celibacy and become a monk.

"What are you doing?" She sputtered. He grinned and wiggled his fingers in a _come hither_ gesture, a la The Matrix. She rolled her eyes.

"No." His thousand-watt smile didn't fade in the least.

"Come on, Jo-Jo." He tempted. "Just take a swing. You know you want to." He waggled his eyebrows. "I'll make it worth your while."

"Don't be ridiculous," she snorted, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'd crush you."

"You never know, maybe I've picked up some skills over the years." She raised an eyebrow.

"Is that so?" She asked, skeptical.

"It's amazing, the things you pick up when you want to impress a gorgeous woman." He paused. "Or irritate her." Jo cocked her head, smiling despite herself.

"You know, on second thought, I'm thinking I want to see these skills firsthand." She said, and began to prowl slowly across the room. As she stepped within arms' length of him, she leaned forward and jabbed first one hand, then the other at his ribs in rapid succession, which to his credit he managed to block from making impact – his earlier words about picking up a skill or two in contending with the Enforcer were not entirely without basis. He was not, however, nearly as lucky with Jo's knee, which swung up shortly thereafter to impact with his gut, knocking the wind out of him. While he was still reeling for air, she braced herself and grabbed his arm, twisting swiftly, and the next thing he knew he was on the floor, on his back, gaping up at her like a fish and gasping for air.

Jo smirked slowly, leaning over him. For a moment, Zane just lay there and appreciated the way her eyes were gleaming and her skin glowing. _Mission accomplished – and totally worth it._ That said, he had to admit he'd forgotten how much it hurt when she floored him.

"Well, color this woman impressed," she teased, hands on her hips. He finally managed to rustle up a playful grin, despite the unpleasantly constricted sensation still lingering in his chest, and Jo's eyes softened at the sight. She knelt and then took a seat on the floor by his side, her lips tilted into a temporarily contented smile. Zane's eyes traced her, from the tip of her smile down the gentle curve of her neck, to the contrasting sharp angles of her collarbone and the smooth muscles of her arms, which he suddenly realized had broken into goosebumps. He raised the hand closest to her and traced her lower arm softly, feeling the delicately pricked hairs under his fingers, and looked up into her face.

"Are you cold?" He asked, frowning. Jo brushed off his concern automatically.

"Just cooling down after all that exercise." She said dismissively, then paused and glanced at him from the corner of her eyes. "Though… I could really go for a hot shower, now that I think about it." She said thoughtfully. Zane, who had just settled onto his back and closed his eyes, murmured,

"_Mmm… _a hot shower sounds lovely," but didn't move an inch. Jo shifted to place her free hand over his where it still lay caressing her arm, squeezing his hand firmly. His hand stilled its motion and he cracked open an eye, looking at her speculatively. She raised her eyebrows significantly and stood up slowly, pausing to pull her long black hair out of its constricting ponytail, giving it a good shake and letting it cascade down her back as she sauntered to the stairs. Zane gazed at her, enjoying the view from behind. The more time he spent with Josefina Lupo, the easier it was to believe that in another life she'd made an honest man of him – and the harder it was to believe he'd waited a whole two years to propose. Snapping out of his thoughts as she disappeared up the staircase, he sprang to his feet and ascended the stairs after her, two steps at a time. He might not be ready for a proposal just yet, but in the meantime, he wasn't about to let another minute go to waste.

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own stuff. Eureka stuff. Don't own that.

Author's Note: What's this? An update? No! It can't be! Wait a minute... the _longest chapter yet?_ Yes, my friends, it is so. This chapter, in fact, exceeded my term paper for Immunology in length... by a substantial amount. So I confess I'm quite pleased. I hope the content is still meeting your approval. It was a little different to write, but I liked a lot of the first half. Mostly I'm proud that I finished it! And well within a month, as promised. Yes, it took twelve days but it's twice the length of the chapters that took me seven days... soooo... lol okay maybe I'm just making excuses now. I have to warn you, though, I'm on vacation next week. On the upside though I'm bringing an old school notebook to write in on the beach. We'll see what comes of that. Hilarity, perhaps.

Also? _Two feet_ of snow outside. Two! There's a cherry tree in my front yard, which is about as tall as me (5' or so) and the snowblower completely buried it when cleaning out the driveway. Eesh.

ADM


	11. Chapter 11

Everything Is Illuminated

The week following Allison's decree was unpleasant for both Jo and Zane, marked by a foul mood on Jo's part as she attempted to reconcile herself to the new constraints on her work at Global. When she'd first come to Eureka, fresh from the difficult and abrupt conclusion of her stint in the Rangers, it had been challenging, particularly with the temporary restrictions imposed on her by her injuries at the time, to adapt to the slower pace of her job in Eureka. But even then, she'd always been able to rely on the periodic crises at Global to add a little excitement to her day. Now that even those little moments were denied to her, the adrenaline junkie in Jo was itching for a fix, and it had bestowed upon her an edge and a tension that were only threatening to escalate as time went on.

Zane was bearing the brunt of her ill temper and had thus far handled it with surprising grace, considering the way her attitude was mirroring the behavior of the Jo Lupo who'd once persecuted him so relentlessly. Of course, the effects of her snappish irritability were tempered considerably by the way she'd taken to channeling much of that repressed energy into sex. On reflection, Zane thought his game of cat and mouse with the old Jo Lupo would've been far pleasanter if sex had been in the cards.

So it was that Jo found herself facing another Monday morning at Global, stuck on the sidelines, almost twitching from the effort of restraining her combined desires for a little action and caffeine. She was at her chair, tapping her fingers against the polished hardwood surface when the phone rang, snapping her out of her reverie. She darted an arm out and snatched the phone off the hook before it could ring a second time.

"Lupo." She answered, her tone clipped and professional, even as her fingers began tapping on the table once more.

"Jo?" Fargo responded, his voice an octave higher than usual, a tone she knew all too well – panic. A week ago this would only have made her sigh in annoyance; now it was a veritable _deus ex machina,_ devised solely to rescue her from the agonizing tedium of paperwork. She resolved not to let this show in her voice.

"Yes, Fargo?" She asked, striving for disinterested inquiry. Fargo, not the most socially discerning of individuals, took it at face value.

"Jo, General Mansfield is on the line demanding you come and speak to him personally on the video feed in my office. I think it's important," he added urgently. Jo's hand stilled where it was on the desk, the now-familiar nauseated sensation in her stomach returning as she processed that this was probably not the kind of excitement she'd been hoping for. Now she really did sigh.

"I'll be right up, Fargo." She told him, then hung up and pushed herself out of her chair, making a beeline to the door out of her office.

* * *

The expression on Fargo's face when Jo entered the room verged on full-fledged panic, and Jo tensed immediately. The video conference monitor was already broadcasting, Mansfield looking characteristically forbidding from behind his desk, in full uniform. When Zane subsequently arrived, she concluded her anxiety had been well deserved.

"Lupo," Mansfield began, with no preamble, a stack of papers before him. "I've just received the monthly reports and something caught my eye." Jo straightened up and squared her shoulders, clasping her hands in front of her professionally. The least she could do was maintain her dignity through this conversation.

"Yes, sir?" she responded calmly.

"These papers from Dr. Blake indicate you've confirmed a pregnancy recently. She's placed you on restricted duty."

"That would be correct, sir." Zane shifted behind her, clearly wondering when the other shoe was going to drop and his presence would be addressed. Jo was curious about that herself. General Mansfield sighed deeply and looked up at the group from the screen.

"These papers name Donovan as the father," he stated, a question lingering behind his words.

"Also true, sir." Jo said, her heartbeat picking up slightly, a sinking feeling forming in the pit of her stomach.

"Lupo, I have no interest or investment in your past indiscretions, but certainly you can see this can't stand." She stared at him blankly, but her mind was racing. Was he implying what she thought? Behind her, she sensed more than she saw Zane stiffening, and she sent out a silent prayer that he would have the good sense to keep his mouth shut and let her deal with this.

"You need to be in a position of control over these people," Mansfield continued, his tone of disgust indicating his exact opinion of such people, and the way his eyes flickered to Zane behind her suggesting one such person who came to mind. Jo could almost feel the tension radiating from Zane by now, and her mind was racing to find away to avoid the oncoming confrontation.

"It appears you intend to proceed with the pregnancy," he carried on, studiously ignoring Zane as he glared daggers at the screen. "As long as that remains the case, I am going to have to insist that you step down from your position as chief of security." Mansfield concluded. Jo's head whipped back from where she'd been eying Zane, scrutinizing his increasingly aggressive body language. She was struggling to form a response, but Zane, who'd been on edge since he'd first seen Mansfield on the screen, beat her to it.

"You have _no _right –"Zane fairly exploded with rage.

"_Zane._" Jo's voice was terse and a little entreating, but it was the shared rage he sensed in her tone that stopped him in his tracks. General Mansfield looked nonplussed from his desk. Fargo looked like he might faint. Jo stepped forward, slightly closer to the screen, and looked directly at the general. Her back was ramrod straight, everything about her appearance the perfect picture of military discipline. Then she spoke, and the tempered steel and restrained fire of her voice ran a chill down Zane's spine. He'd forgotten, in the past few weeks, how frightening she could be in a genuine rage – his instinctive caution in dealing with her tempered of late by the way her eyes softened and shone when looking at him. Even now it was a relief to see her directing her considerable force of will at someone other than himself.

"Sir," she began, voice low, and at the use of the honorific Zane shifted again with the force of his irritation. Jo sent him a quelling look and he subsided, for the time being.

"I am your employee," she said, her words ringing with clarity through the room, "and I may be subject to certain demands. But even in Eureka, we exist within the bounds of law." Her eyes bore into Mansfield's. "You have no legal right to make that demand of me. Nor do you have the right to withdraw my employment in Eureka if I do not comply. Now," she continued, heedless of the way Fargo gaped at her, "was that a suggestion or an instruction made by my employer?" She did not move an inch, did not bat an eye, but stared the general down just the same. His eyes narrowed.

"Merely a suggestion, of course." He replied finally, recognizing the truth of her words.

"Of course." She replied simply. Behind her, Zane and Fargo found themselves exchanging an incredulous glance. Mansfield switched to a new tactic.

"However, I must insist that you cease and desist in your… relationship with Donovan." Zane found himself holding his breath. Jo looked at Mansfield calmly.

"I will not, and you cannot compel me to without an independent assessment by a relationship auditor." She reminded him. The general looked frustrated, but resigned.

"Very well, Lupo. I take it this is the way things will be from now on?" Jo didn't reply. "Dr. Fargo, I look forward to your next update." Mansfield said, turning to Fargo. "I'll be in touch." The screen went black, and Zane let out the breath he'd been holding in one quick _whoosh _of relief.

Jo and Fargo exchanged glances, frustration and disbelief written on Fargo's face. Logically, he knew that Jo had been given very little choice, but that wouldn't help him during the next conference with the general, or the one after that. Jo gave him an apologetic smile tinged with self-deprecation, and headed for the door silently and swiftly. Zane shook himself out of his extended moment of disbelief and trailed her out the door, catching her halfway down the hall.

"Hey, hey, hey, hold up a minute here!" He demanded. Jo sighed audibly and stopped, turning toward him. "What do you want, Zane, because I'm not really in the mood – " Zane cut her off with a swift kiss, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close. She sighed a little into his mouth, her shoulders slumping from where they'd been tensed up around her neck as the tension from the heated exchange slipped away from her. For a moment they stayed meshed together in that hallway, time passing them by as Zane softly caressed the small of her back with his hands and they poured all the tender, violent emotions they'd both been keeping close to the chest into that one kiss. When he finally pulled back a fraction of an inch to speak – so close that the tip of his nose almost brushed hers – his expression was genuine and perhaps just a little shy.

"You were incredible in there, Jo," he told her seriously; then, recognizing the building emotional charge in the air, backed off habitually by covering his earnestness with his customary smirk.

"I'd certainly hate to be your enemy, Jo-Jo," he teased, a touch of irony in his voice. Jo smiled halfheartedly at him, still not entirely comfortable with the events which had just occurred in Fargo's office. Zane leaned in again, capturing her lips with his, and Jo closed her eyes reflexively, welcoming the opportunity to forget her unease. It was early yet in GD, the rotunda partially visible from the nearby stairs completely deserted, and – as was so often the case – things between them escalated quickly.

In short order, Zane had Jo pressed up against the nearby wall, her lower lip trapped firmly between his own lips. He sucked it further into his mouth, running his tongue delicately along the length of her lip, then released it slowly, only to trail forceful kisses from the curve of her jaw down her neckline. Her hand was inching up his back beneath his tight t-shirt, revealing a strip of skin and the firmly toned muscle where her hand was clenched, digging small half-moons into his flesh. It was then that the clatter of an electronic clipboard hitting the floor snapped them back to their senses. Larry was staring at them, digital stylus still clutched in his hand

"Now those are a real man's abs," he said enviously. With mortification, the couple realized that Larry was, in fact, only one of many people now streaming through the rotunda and into the halls of GD, some of which had a direct line of sight to where Zane and Jo stood pressed together. Some people were already coming in and out of the hallway outside Fargo's office, and Jo noted their expressions with a sinking feeling.

"Beat it, Larry," Zane all but barked, and Larry scurried off in his typically skittish fashion. While he focused on Larry, she was quietly observing the way the other scientists around her eyeballed them with disapproval, recognizing some of them with dismay. Fargo's office was surrounded by a number of other offices belonging to department heads and higher-ups in GD – Jo's office was nearby as well.

As Zane shooed Larry from the scene, Jo found herself recognizing several department heads and chairs – the director of physics, the microbiology chair, and an assortment of others: some of whom already disapproved of the Chief of Security taking up with the chief source of trouble in the facility, as well as others who had, up until that point, remained neutral in the debates and infighting that had intensified since the news had broke. The director of physics, who was of course the man heading up Zane's department, had already been enthusiastically broadcasting to the entire facility his dislike of Zane and his disapproval of Jo's unanticipated involvement with Zane. But this was the first time she'd seen that hint of disapproval from the microbiology chair or many of the other scientists in the vicinity, and Jo was certain she knew what she'd done to put it there.

Zane watched Larry scamper away, poorly disguised amusement written all over his face, before he turned back to look at Jo. She resisted meeting his gaze, instead slipping out from the space she'd been occupying between him and the wall, wanting nothing more than to leave quietly and nurse her wounded pride in peace. Unfortunately, perhaps, for the both of them, Zane wasn't the type to let things go: not even petite and fearsome warrior women ready and willing to kill a man with their thumbs (Jo wasn't the only adrenaline junkie in this relationship, after all; or perhaps he was just a glutton for punishment.) In this case, it prompted him to grab her arm and prevent her from making good her escape. He tried, mostly fruitlessly, to pull her back into his arms.

"Slow down there, sweetheart," he teased, but Jo continued to pull away.

"Let me go, Zane," she demanded, desperate to escape the judgmental eyes surrounding them, and the teasing glint in his eyes subsided as he picked up on the undertone of distress in her voice, sharpening instead into a more analytical and calculating gaze.

"You're not going anywhere until you tell me whatever's bothering you," he insisted, realizing now that this was more than simple embarrassment. He was a moment to late in recognizing that this had been the wrong tactic, as Jo, well and truly fed up with being told what to do, whirled around, hazel eyes flashing with the force of her anger.

"Like hell I'm not, Zane," she hissed, looking down where his hand grasped her arm firmly. "Let me go or I will do it _for _you." Zane hesitated, weighing his options, but ultimately recognized that keeping her there, in that hall, surrounded by an ever-increasing audience of Global Dynamics employees, was unlikely to soothe the pent-up rage that virtually emanated from her petite frame.

He released her arm reluctantly and she stalked away, disappearing down the hallway with one last glare for good measure. Zane sighed, running one hand anxiously through his hair and turning in the opposite direction, toward the rotunda. He took a few steps and paused, glancing over his shoulder in the direction to which Jo had disappeared, then pulling out his phone and looking at it thoughtfully. There was no way Jo would talk to him, of course, at least not yet. He was part of the problem, after all, if not actually the problem itself. But perhaps she could be persuaded to speak with someone else. Zane shook his head almost imperceptibly, unable to believe he was about to do this. Had anyone suggested, three months ago, that this would be his life, much less that he'd enjoy it, he would have laughed in their face.

Resigned to his fate, Zane dialed the phone and raised it to his ear.

* * *

By the time Jack found Jo in her office, her sudden burst of frenzied resentment having subsided into subdued dismay. She sat in the chair at her desk, looking absently at a framed item she held in both hands. From his vantage point, it was unidentifiable, and Jack suspected that was the way she'd prefer it to remain. She didn't turn to look at him until after the door slid shut behind him, no doubt having discerned his identity nearly the moment the door had slid open. When she finally looked up at him and Jack saw the strain on her face, he understood why Zane had called him, though the other man had refused to share any details, pointing out that Jo would sniff out any hint of his involvement within minutes and probably have them both dead and buried by lunch.

"Jo?" Jack said quietly, the tone of his voice asking a question he wasn't sure how to phrase. In any case, Jo caught his meaning easily enough.

"I can't do this, Jack," she said quietly. "It's too much." Jo looked down at the frame in her hands and continued. "Zoe hates me – "

"Jo – " Jack said again, interrupting her, but she cut him off.

"– she won't even answer my calls, Jack." Jo shook her head. "The entire town is watching me like I'm a cheap soap production of The Scarlet Letter, and they don't even know that I'm pregnant yet! As if that weren't enough, my relationship with Zane has turned GD from a workplace to a political battleground between GD'S 'haves' and 'have-nots.' Not even Eva Thorne managed that, though God knows she tried!"

"That was a different situation – " Jack argued weakly, but stopped short at the look on her face.

"Mansfield wasn't entirely wrong, this morning." Jo told him. "If I don't find a way to fix this, it's going to blow up in our faces, and fast." For that, Jack had no response at all.

For a moment, silence reigned in the office, Jack struggling for words as Jo slid the frame she'd been studying so intently into one of her desk drawers. The click of the lock seemed as loud as a gunshot in the quiet room, though Jo's subsequent sigh weakened the effect of the sound.

"I tried so hard to prove myself, you know." Jo said finally, glancing up at Jack. "To myself, to my father, to Sheriff Cobb, this town, the DOD... I thought maybe if I worked hard enough, I could get the Sheriff position." She laughed, but the sound was humorless. "But you showed up, and you did the job better than me – " Jack opened his mouth to argue, but she held up a hand to silence him. " – no, you did, I accept that." She said, derailing him entirely as she fiddled with the pen lying on her desk.

"After Zane showed up, I thought –" Here Jo paused, taking a deep breath. "– I thought it didn't matter so much, after all." She dropped the pen and studied her hands intently instead, still avoiding Jack's eyes.

"But then he was gone, and I had my dream job by an – an accident of fate." Jo struggled over the words, looking up at Jack. "It was a lousy trade," she admitted. "But I tried; oh, did I try. I threw myself into the job, barely ate – and when I did it never stayed in my stomach for long." She admitted wryly, "but I was so busy at GD, trying not to think about what was missing, that it never even occurred to me to wonder why I was sick all the time."

Jo paused, and Jack watched her expectantly, realizing there was more.

"Now I know why," Jo said quietly, "and everything I've worked for – not just the job, but the respect – it's falling apart." Jack hesitated, uncertain what it was she most needed to hear, and finally settled for:

"You've got Zane now, though." He reminded her. Jo looked up at him, the uncertainty in her eyes more than a little heartbreaking, though Jack knew she wouldn't thank him for the thought.

"Do I?" Jo asked quietly. "Do I really?" She shook her head with bemused frustration. "Some days, it's perfect, and other days it's like looking into a carnival mirror – he's still Zane, but everything is a little distorted and out of place." Jo shrugged helplessly. "We know each other and we're strangers, all at once. Sometimes I don't know what he'll do next, and it makes me nervous." She sighed and rubbed at her dry eyes, looking exhausted.

"I should go apologize to him," Jo said reluctantly. "I wasn't really upset with him, so much as the situation itself, but I took it out on him just the same…" she trailed off. "I felt so trapped," she murmured to herself, looking at her hands.

"Jo," Jack began, and then stopped. "He loves you," he said finally, willing her to believe him. Jo's whole body jerked with the words, her eyes widening slightly as she looked at Jack. It was obvious that this wasn't what she'd expected him to say. Sometimes Jack wondered what went on in her head.

There was a momentary silence, broken by the creak of her chair as Jo slumped in her seat, resting her forehead on her palms and burying her fingers tightly in her hair with frustration. What she said next was muffled by her position – Jack wasn't sure she'd intended for him to hear it in any case – but what it sounded like to him was this:

"But will it be enough for him?" The undertones in her voice made him think that this was an old hurt for her, and it reminded Jack how little he really knew about Jo's past. He questioned, once more, what it was that had made her hesitate, on the morning of Founder's Day. He was beginning to doubt even Jo knew. The one thing he felt sure of was that it had nothing to do with her actual desire to be with Zane. After watching Jo fall to pieces in the wake of the disastrous events of Founder's Day, he was more certain than ever that Jo longed for her own slice of happily-ever-after with a carefully concealed intensity. Watching her second-guess herself and her decisions now that she was so close to getting what she'd clearly been yearning for all along was – painful, to say the least, and Jack suspected there was very little he could do to help besides seeing her through the difficult times. In the end, she'd have to work her mixed emotions out on her own for it to do her any good.

The moment that Jo's emotional shields slid back into place was easy for Jack to identify, after several years of witnessing her infrequent emotionally vulnerable moments. Her whole body stiffened, her shoulders snapping back into her impeccable, military-precision posture and her face smoothing into a relatively unemotional mask. Over the years these stretches of time had become a little more frequent and of greater duration, but the common factor in them all was the inevitable return to the status quo. Jo gave him a polite but distant smile, her eyes sliding past his face as if she didn't quite see him at all.

"I should really get back to this paperwork." She told him blandly, and Jack understood that he'd just been dismissed. He hesitated for a moment, which Jo noticed, but by now Jack knew well enough that when Jo declared 'girl talk' to be over, there was nothing and no one on the planet that could persuade her otherwise. He hesitated as he left her office, casting one last glance behind him, hoping, though he knew better by now, that she would suddenly change her mind. But she was studiously ignoring him, her eyes glued to the papers on her desk, and it was clear enough that there would be no changing her mind, at least for the time being. So Jack walked away, resolving even as the door slid closed behind him to keep a close eye on Josefina Lupo over the coming months, knowing perfectly well that if left to her own devices, it would already be too late for the situation to be salvaged by the time she swallowed her stubborn pride and went to anyone for help or support. Perhaps they would get lucky and the next few months would be smooth sailing…

Jack snorted at the thought. This was Eureka, after all. The one constant you could rely on was that nothing would go according to plan. With that disquieting thought in mind, Jack made his way out of Global Dynamics, hoping that the rest of his day, at least, might be relatively uneventful.

* * *

Disclaimer: Eureka - not mine.

EDITED 04/27/2012


	12. Chapter 12

Everything Is Illuminated

The first day after their spat in GD, Zane resolved to give Jo the time and space he suspected she needed. He'd spoken with Carter after Carter had his own one-on-one time with Jo that day, and though the other man had refused to divulge specifics, the look on his face when they spoke only reinforced Zane's conviction that there were things Jo would need to work through herself before she accepted his presence in her life once more. This time, he wasn't going to push her. This time, it would be her choice.

Two days of cautious avoidance on his part ensued, coupled with two nights of restless, worried sleep that included long periods spent wide awake, staring at the ceiling while consumed in anxiety and doubt. Would she make the right choice? And what if he had never been the right choice to begin with? She'd only found herself in his arms by an accident of fate, after all. He wasn't exactly a catch; hell, he was a felon. He was as far from being a reasonable relationship choice for a security professional as one could possibly get. He certainly wasn't the man she'd once been in love with: she never said it, but every time she glanced at him with surprise in her eyes, he was reminded once more that when she looked at him, she saw someone else.

As another two days passed, Zane's restless nights and late night anxiety turned to relentless exhaustion and a persistent empty, gnawing feeling in his gut. Sunday morning came around, and he found himself at Café Diem just in time for brunch, just like any other Sunday. When Jo swung open the door, letting in a gust of cool autumn air, he was pushing a piece of Vincent's latest breakfast burrito around his plate, his appetite unequal to the demanding ache in his stomach. His breath caught in his throat the moment she stepped into the café in a midnight blue dress that hugged her subtly changing curves in all the right places. For a moment, Zane forgot all about the tension and the uncertainty that permeated this thing between them as he wondered what she would look like beneath that dress in two, three months' time, when the world would finally see tangible, unequivocal evidence of the scarcely contained fire that had ignited between them.

As if on cue, Jo turned her head and her eyes met his, the flames between them flaring with such force that Zane felt as if he'd been struck. But she looked away as quickly as she'd found his eyes to begin with, conflict written in her eyes. Zane felt his heart sink, but his despair was beginning to give way to frustration. He'd given her time, hadn't he? He'd given her all the space a person could get in this town. And she wouldn't even look him in the eye.

He looked down at his breakfast burrito, what interest he'd had in eating more vanishing. Behind him, Jo finished making her order and took a seat at the counter. In one smooth motion, Zane grabbed the plate from the table in front of him and crossed the room to deposit it on that very same counter. Unable to resist needling her, he deliberately let his arm brush firmly against hers as he put down the half-empty plate, her personal space dwindling to less than nothing in under a minute. He could feel, as much as he could hear, her sharp intake of breath at the contact. He smirked, though it was laced with a bitterness which her stalwart refusal to look at him ensured she would miss. _Hate me if you must, Josefina, but you can only ignore me for so long,_ he thought smugly. But despite her initial shock, Jo refused to move a muscle or acknowledge his presence. His frustration with her increasing, Zane slammed his empty coffee mug next to the plate with just a little too much force, causing her to make a startled little jump in her seat, and he whipped around to stalk with irritation out of the café. Zane steeled himself not to look back as he left the café, his shoulders tight with annoyance, therefore missing the pair of hazel eyes which guiltily watched him go.

Surprisingly, Jo was having a better time of it than Zane, despite her irritation with the new restrictions imposed on her and her ongoing concerns regarding her position as Chief of Security. In part, this was probably due to her impromptu therapy session with Carter (which, though she didn't truly regret it, was making it hard to look him in the eye), but in many ways, the improvement in Jo's mood was due to the effect their temporary estrangement was having on Zane.

Jo's past relationship with Zane, whatever else it may have been, had never been perfect. There had always been road bumps: the sort you'd expect to stem from commitment issues, emotional issues, even just the force of two strong personalities colliding. A collision like that was bound to result in sparks: both the good and the bad.

By now, it was something to which Jo was well accustomed. Once upon a time, they'd settled into something of a dance. There were steps: Zane would say or do something, Jo would overreact, Zane would get annoyed by her overreaction, she would storm out, she would avoid him once she calmed down and realized she'd been unreasonable (or, occasionally, until he realized he was the one in the wrong), and he would avoid her stubbornly until she made an overture, at which point it would all end in fantastic make-up sex.

She'd become attached to this little dance of theirs – it was predictable and it was safe. So when her first spat with Zane 2.0 fell into this neat pattern – after months of watching and wondering if things could ever be the same between them – Jo felt as if she'd let out a breath she'd almost forgotten she'd been holding. Perhaps things weren't so different after all.

* * *

Zane, unfortunately, didn't have the benefit of prior knowledge that Jo did, and for him, the events in Café Diem were the last straw for his already frayed nerves. He spent that night struggling with his growing sense of frustration with Jo, leaving him more sleep deprived than ever and, at this point, perhaps a little on the irrational side.

The following morning started poorly. Zane, freshly resolved to avoid Café Diem entirely, decided he would make his own breakfast instead of snagging a muffin to-go from the café as he'd done for the last five days, and settled upon a simple meal of scrambled eggs and coffee. Things went rapidly downhill when he discovered that he'd misplaced the frying pan whenever he'd last used it, which, given his near-relocation to Jo's house and his frequent patronage of Café Diem, had been quite a while ago. He was so preoccupied with his quest to locate the frying pan that he nearly burned the pot of coffee which had been boiling away on his stovetop. Any relief he might have felt in rescuing his coffee evaporated rapidly when his left hand slipped and he spilled scalding coffee on his right, which was, of course, his dominant hand. Fed up with the stream of minor failures, Zane tossed the cookware into his sink to be dealt with later and resigned himself to making an appearance at Café Diem.

In some ways, Café Diem ended up being worse than the disaster zone Zane called 'home.' It was true that the food was good and delivered in a timely fashion, but the meal also came complete with a gossip chain that stretched across town and a café full of overly inquisitive scientists. When Zane finally reached Café Diem, the typically bustling café was suspiciously quiet, more than a few overly curious eyes surreptitiously following his progress into the room. Jo was nowhere to be seen, just as Zane had hoped, but when he turned his back on the room to make his order, he could feel the combined weight of their gazes on him, making the hairs on the back of his neck prickle and stand at attention. The low murmur of voices behind him built and intensified, snippets of conversation permeating the air around him.

"…right outside of Director Fargo's office, no less…"

"…heard from Zoe Carter the other day…"

"…who _knows _what Lupo was thinking…"

Zane didn't realize he was clenching his jaw until he caught the nervous expression on Vincent's face as the other man handed him his muffin and coffee to go. He reminded himself, as always, that he was tolerating this for Jo's sake. But for the first time in a month, the thought didn't bring him the comfort it usually did. Instead, a traitorous voice inside his head asked him, _and what if it's all been for nothing?_ Zane growled just under his breath, making Vincent jump with alarm. He muttered a quick thanks to Vincent and made his escape.

"Have – have a nice day," Vincent called after him hesitantly, but Zane couldn't be bothered to respond. He made a point of carefully securing his muffin and coffee in the hopes of avoiding a return trip.

By the time Zane reached GD, his mood had only soured further. He stormed into the nullweps lab around ten, causing Parrish to glance up from his clipboard.

"Late again, Donovan," Parrish pointed out, a mocking edge to his tone. He'd watched Zane with no small degree of amusement for the first three days of Zane's self-imposed exile from Jo's life, though he'd offered very little comment on this latest development in the little soap opera that periodically flared to life in his lab.

"Bite me, Parrish," Zane snapped, slamming his to-go mug on the lab bench. The other, somewhat less forthright members of the lab exchanged glances and made themselves scarce, wanting no part of an altercation between the two most unpredictable scientists in GD.

"Wouldn't want to catch something," Parrish drawled, stepping closer to Zane's workspace. He mock-shuddered. "I would hate to look as _whipped_ as you." Zane looked up from his computer, his eyes shooting daggers at his supervisor and sometime friend. The lab held its collective breath, half-expecting them to come to blows, but after a brief pause Parrish stepped back and walked away, Zane returning his attention to the computer screen. Only his whitened knuckles where his right hand clenched the mouse betrayed his lingering tension as he struggled to focus on his work and ignore the curious glances thrown his way by the other members of his lab.

* * *

Several floors up, Jo was also facing problems with distraction in the workplace. That seemed, she thought wryly, to have become a common theme in her life lately. Part of it, she was sure, could be blamed on boredom and frustration. Since Allison had put her on restricted duty, her day-to-day responsibilities consisted entirely of paperwork and mediating between bickering scientists. The warring factions of scientists within Global Dynamics had been a constant headache starting in the first few weeks of the new timeline, and it continued to persist in spite of their best efforts. As the now-former head of Global, Allison was convinced it was all the result of the alternate Fargo's impossible deadlines, strict penalties and artificially tight competition for grants, which had served to pit labs against each other. Whatever the cause, the infighting had been at an uneasy equilibrium when they had arrived. They'd been unable to resolve the tension that had taken over GD, but until Jo and Zane had gone public, they'd been able to maintain the precarious balance they'd found upon their arrival. After the relationship between Jo and Zane, such as it was, had gone public, the power dynamic had been shaken substantially and things had largely devolved into chaos.

As far as the labs at the 'top of the heap' in Global Dynamics were concerned, the Enforcer had just switched her allegiance to the underdog labs and had declared herself in support of Zane Donovan, and by extension Isaac Parrish, the two scientists who posed the greatest threat to their control over and success in Global Dynamics. Since then, there had been a series of sabotages (some of which had required calling Carter in because it wasn't safe for Jo to handle the results firsthand), the occasional theft of equipment, and one fistfight (though Jo suspected there had been an underlying love triangle involved with the latter incident). The worst episode had occurred a couple weeks before when a lackey from one of the physics labs had reprogrammed M.A.R.T.H.A. and attempted to frame Zane as the hacker responsible, something which her alter-ego would never have hesitated to believe. The scientist responsible had ultimately been found and penalized, but Jo's utter failure to pursue Zane as a suspect had only reinforced the concerns of the major labs about her loyalties.

Jo suspected that Dr. Snyder, the head of the physics department (Zane's boss, no less) had orchestrated the whole thing, though she and Carter had failed to turn up any proof to that effect. The man had been a problem even in their original timeline, particularly for Zane, who'd been a rising star in the department; Jo suspected that the instability that existed in the administrative workings of GD in the new timeline had only made it easier for the man to accumulate power. The concerted efforts of the time-traveling five to put an end to that instability had no doubt been making his life very difficult. Jo imagined the appearance of a chink in her armor, in the form of Zane, no less, had seemed to him the perfect opportunity to regain ground lost in the preceding months.

Jo's hands paused, hovering over her keyboard in the midst of typing up the latest incident report as a thought ran through her head. Her involvement with Zane was only the tip of the iceberg when it came to material Snyder could use to wreak havoc for their small group. If he were to nose into their affairs and find evidence of their time-travel experiences, he could end up getting them all sanctioned and therefore out of his way. Jo dropped her hands down to her desk, sighing. She really needed to speak with Zane, before things got out of hand between them. She knew well enough that their altercation the prior week had been her own damn fault for overreacting. It was her modus operandi, after all. But the fact of the matter was, they didn't have room for this kind of discord in their little cabal of inadvertent law-breakers. They were all walking a thin line right now, Zane and herself included, and now there was an innocent life on the line. Jo's hand drifted absently to her lower abdomen, where she let it rest for a moment before pulling it away and bracing herself to stand.

The fact of the matter was, Jo admitted to herself as she pushed herself out of the chair and headed for her office door, she and Zane _both_ knew she should have apologized already a week ago. Well, she'd avoided the conversation for long enough. It was long past time to face the music.

* * *

It was obvious that Zane knew the minute Jo stepped into the lab by the way his back stiffened where he stood, leaning over the test results displayed on his computer screen. Rather than confront Zane immediately, Jo approached Dr. Parrish.

"Would you mind giving us a moment?" She inquired politely, hands clasped in front of her. Parrish glanced at her, considering.

"Oh, by all means," he drawled emphatically, eyes full of irritation sliding to the computer screen where Zane was ignoring them both pointedly. Parrish caught the attention of the other lab workers and jerked his head toward the inner sanctum of the observation room attached to the lab, which was currently set up like a firing range. Jo eyed it curiously but concluded it was best not to ask, at least not at the moment. She opened her mouth, about to tell him not to go to such trouble – it made more sense for her and Zane to speak alone in the observation room than to move the whole lab temporarily, after all – but then she caught a look at Zane's stormy face and realized there was no way he was going anywhere voluntarily.

Once the other members of the lab had gathered in the observation room, Jo approached Zane, leaning against the lab table holding his computer.

"Zane," she said quietly, but he didn't respond, tapping determinedly on the keyboard.

"_Zane,_" she tried again, her voice slightly raised in pitch. He cast her a momentary glance, then looked back at the computer screen.

"Oh, I exist?" Zane muttered as he typed into the computer. "Thought something felt different today." He finished, hitting the enter key with slightly more force than necessary. Jo bristled at his typically snarky attitude, but forced herself to count to ten and take a deep breath. _You're the one in the wrong here,_ she reminded herself.

"Would you just _look_ at me?" She demanded of him, and Zane's hands froze over the computer keys. He turned his head slowly, eyebrows raised inquiringly.

"Yes, Josefina?" He asked, a little snide. Jo narrowed her eyes.

"I'm _here_ to _apologize_." She said slowly, drawing out the words. He gave her a patronizing look.

"You know, for someone so worried about having an audience, you've come to the wrong place," he replied, looking pointedly towards the observation room. Jo's eyes followed his gaze and she almost groaned aloud – the vast majority of the lab was very nearly pressed up against the windows, watching them. The only thing missing was popcorn. She turned back to Zane, who looked faintly smug in spite of his aura of irritation.

"Fine," she all but growled. "You win. But this isn't over," she promised. "We _are _going to talk." She informed him with a steady gaze, eyebrows raised pointedly. For once Zane was the one to look away.

"Whatever," he muttered, turning back to his computer screen. Jo rolled her eyes in annoyance but turned and made a quick departure from the room, her eyebrows knit together with frustration. She _would_ make him talk, one way or another.

* * *

After a remarkably therapeutic session with the punching bag in her basement dojo, Jo found herself in Café Diem, deep in thought. Her gaze was absently fixed on the table where she and Zane had been sitting on their disastrous first date. The table was currently inhabited by Larry, who squeaked in terror and fled when he caught the intense gaze Jo had inadvertently fixed on him, barely remembering to hand his plate over to Vincent before making his hasty exit. Jo barely registered his departure, preoccupied as she was with thoughts of Zane.

She'd have to get him alone if she wanted to talk things out with him, she realized that now. His caveat about their audience, though still a blatant stalling tactic, had been a legitimate point. A poorly timed public display of emotion was what had got her into this mess, after all; for different reasons, true, but words spoken in the heat of the moment had a way of revealing things best kept hidden. Should this turn into a genuine fight rather than a mere overreaction on her part, it would be better that it happen away from prying ears. If this apology was going to get them back on track, the last thing they needed was for the apology itself to attract as much attention as the fight had. One word about time travel overheard by the wrong set of ears, and their precariously balanced house of cards would come toppling down on them, and it would hurt a lot of other people in the process, not the least of which being the baby. Jo had no illusions about what would happen if the DOD got word of a baby whose very existence defied the laws of physics. As far as Jo was concerned, "sanctioned" was not an ominous enough word to describe the possibility that her child could be dragged away to a secure location to be locked up like a lab rat and studied by a scientist less scrupulous than the majority of Eureka residents. And that was the better option. Jo's fists clenched at the thought.

She took a deep, calming breath and turned her mind back to the problem at hand. So the meeting would need to be private. She could arrange that. Except… Jo tilted her head slightly in thought. Zane had made it clear enough that he had no interest in talking things out with her. However she played this, he wouldn't be joining her voluntarily. Jo bit her lip. She could always _make_ him come with her, of course, and after his snarky behavior in the lab the thought held a certain… appeal, but a little voice in her head that sounded a whole lot like Carter pointed out that it would be an excessive use of force and not very helpful besides. Jo reluctantly admitted to herself that taking Zane somewhere against his will to apologize wasn't likely to improve matters.

Jo glanced up reflexively in response to the sound of the café door opening, half-hoping to see Zane come through the door, solving her problem for her. Instead Carter came barreling through, looking flustered.

"Vincent, please, you've got to help me," he blurted out. Vincent stared at him.

"Slow down, Sheriff, what's wrong?" Carter glanced behind him, realization no doubt dawning as to how many people were now watching him. He lowered his voice, not wanting to become the latest subject of gossip. Now curious, Jo strained her ears to listen.

"It's Allison's birthday tomorrow, and I don't have _anything_ planned," he hissed. Vincent's eyes widened.

"What were you_ thinking_?" He whispered, scandalized.

"She only just mentioned it an hour ago!" Carter defended himself, and Jo smirked.

"Well you'd better get it moving, Sheriff, you have some big shoes to fill," Vincent warned him in an undertone, attempting to be encouraging but only inadvertently reminding the other man of his insecurities about Allison's past relationships, namely her history with Nathan Stark. Carter froze momentarily, and then shook his head once, sharply.

"Thanks, Vincent." He muttered. "Look – I was thinking I'd surprise her at home with dinner tomorrow night. No business, no kids, just us…" he trailed off meaningfully. "Anyways, I'm no cook. Could I get you to whip up something for the two of us?" Carter asked pleadingly. "And nothing weird!" He added as an afterthought. Vincent rolled his eyes and began the usual tirade over Carter's plebian tastes, but Jo's attention waned away as an idea began to form in her mind. Catch him by surprise… it was the only reasonable solution. Jo grinned to herself as she watched Carter and Vincent negotiate menus. She knew exactly how she'd do it.

* * *

Jo slipped into Zane's house around seven that evening, still propelled by the restless energy that had driven her to approach Zane in the nullweps lab earlier that day. She headed straight for the kitchen, two take-out bags in hand – one for her dinner and the other, which she promptly placed in the freezer, full of Vincent's homemade rocky road ice cream. Tossing the bag with her dinner carelessly onto the kitchen table, she began rummaging through drawers and cupboards for silverware and plates, humming with quiet satisfaction to find he kept them all where she expected them to be.

She settled down at the table, stomach growling, and glanced at the clock by the door into the kitchen. The positions of the hands indicated it was just past seven, though of course none of the numbers on the clock corresponded to the appropriate hour or minute: Zane had once explained to Jo that the inward spiral of digits on this clock represented the infinite decimal places of pi. (He'd then gone on to explain, with no small enthusiasm, that towards the middle of the clock some of the numbers could only be seen using a magnifying glass, to which Jo had rightly pointed out that nobody was likely to spontaneously inspect his kitchen clock with a magnifying glass anytime soon. He, of course, already had.)

Jo dug into her eagerly anticipated Greek salad with gusto. The poorly-named 'morning' sickness which had plagued her through the first trimester was tapering off, leaving her instead with an unusually voracious appetite, to which Vincent was all too thrilled to pander. In only ten minutes, Jo was spitting out the last few olive pits and licking the last of the dressing and feta cheese from her fork with satisfaction. She wasted no time in reaching for the second well-sealed bag from Café Diem and tearing it open to reveal a wealth of popcorn, all of which was well coated in salt and oregano. Jo reached in and popped a few in her mouth, closing her eyes in pleasure and savoring the taste. She finished the bag in short order then quickly rinsed the plate and silverware, placing them in the dishwasher. Once she'd cleaned up the remnants of her dinner, she glanced thoughtfully toward the freezer door, behind which the rocky road ice cream lay, but ultimately decided to let dessert be, for the moment – after all, the point had been to share with Zane, whether as an attempt to sweeten him up or as a post-reconciliation celebratory snack.

Instead, she began to wander aimlessly through the house. She hadn't been back to Zane's home since the morning she'd barged in and they'd hatched the plan that had made her current mess possible. At the time, she'd been much too distracted and anxious to compare the place she remembered to the version which now existed. Now that she knew the kitchen was much the same, her curiosity was piqued with regards to the rest of the house.

Zane had been living in this house, so far as Jo knew, since he'd first been released from Carter's custody and supervision. In the altered timeline, that had happened a full year later than in Jo's timeline, just after Stark had died. Zane had spent the interim in federal prison, while Stark had full reign over the big bang project made possible only by Zane's early work at MIT. When Zane had been pulled in by the other Fargo after Stark's death to take over data analysis, they were long past the initial, groundbreaking work, leaving Zane with a whole lot of paperwork for a project he wasn't even permitted to fully supervise. The restrictions placed on him while working on a project he'd designed himself had chafed badly, and Jo knew from her files that after a few bids for greater autonomy in his work were shot down, he'd begun to act out.

Unfortunately, his misbehavior had coincided squarely with her alter-ego's installation to head of security by Mansfield, shortly after Eva Thorne had fled Eureka and Carter had been (temporarily) fired from the Sheriff position. From what Jo had pieced together since their arrival in their strange new reality, the other Jo had gained her position during Andy's brief promotion to Sheriff. At that point, things in Eureka being as unstable as they were at the time, Jo had dug her heels in at the first sign of trouble from Zane and torn into the perceived threat like a guard dog on the offensive. From there, things had escalated.

Still, Jo realized as she looked through the rooms, Zane's place was much the same as it had been: the exception being, much as she had expected, the absence of any indication of their former relationship. Whatever other differences did exist – and she was certain there _were _some, she could almost _feel_ them – were so minor as to be nearly indistinguishable. Jo hesitated at the doorway to Zane's bedroom, caught in all the memories, both good and bad, which she associated with that room. She stepped inside and switched on the light. At first glance, she saw nothing out of the ordinary, but then she caught a glint of something on the bedside table where there should have been nothing. Jo climbed onto the bed, sliding toward the headboard to get a better look. When she recognized the item for what it was, Jo's lips parted in a silent gasp of surprise.

The glint of light she'd seen had been the gleam of the lights off the glass of a picture frame, which in and of itself wasn't so odd, but the photo contained inside was of her and Zane, something which should have been impossible. For one fleeting, terrifying moment, Jo felt as if the floor, and her sanity, had been pulled out from under her. Had the timeline really changed, or was it all in her head this whole time? She was temporarily dizzied by the implications. But as the first breath of shock wore off, Jo gradually began to notice things, important things, about the photo. Most notably, that it was clear neither of them had known at the time they were being photographed. She didn't know the photo existed because she hadn't been aware the picture was being taken, and as she realized that she recognized the moment captured in the photo as one which had taken place only two weeks ago outside of Café Diem. Her tensed shoulders slumped in relief. A candid photo she hadn't noticed being taken was infinitely different from one which existed apparently in spite of the laws of physics. (Not unlike your baby, a little voice in the back of her head reminded her nastily, but she chose to ignore it.) She ran her fingers lightly over the picture frame, her heart clenching inexplicably at the sight of it. It was the last thing she'd expected to see in Zane's house, much less on his bedside table, and she wondered briefly where he'd gotten it from – and what, precisely, it meant.

As the brief adrenaline spike and alarm wore off, a wave of exhaustion, both mental and physical, washed over Jo. She glanced at the alarm clock by the bed. It was barely 7:20 – she'd torn through her meal a lot faster than she'd anticipated when she planned this – and she didn't expect Zane to arrival until 8:30 at the earliest. Surely she could just take a few minutes and rest her eyes for a little while so she'd have the energy to confront him when he arrived. There wasn't much point to her presence if she was too exhausted to talk things out with him, after all.

Jo lay back for a moment and found herself surprised by how comfortable his mattress was. She shifted, pulling the sheets down under her just far enough to allow her to slide beneath and pull them back over her. It was a lot better than her own mattress, even, she thought as she burrowed deeper into the sheets. His bed definitely hadn't been this nice before the shift in the timeline – perhaps because he hadn't spent so much time in it. She closed her eyes, realizing the ache that had been starting to form where her spine met her hips was beginning to ease… perhaps they'd have to revise their sleeping schedule, once he was speaking to her again, it was such a waste to leave this mattress unoccupied…

* * *

About two hours after Jo had broken into Zane's house, Zane turned the corner into his driveway with his motorcycle. After Jo's appearance at GD, he'd been pressed to get any work done, between the curious glances sent his way by the other members of the lab and his own mixed emotions. Around five he'd written off the day entirely, deciding instead to make a trip out to the old vacation house, something he'd been avoiding all week. It had been a beautiful day for it; the air had been brisk but it was a sunny day and the leaves around the lake were just beginning to change their colors. He'd stayed late, doing odd jobs around the house once the sun had set. By the time he left, around eight, he was exhausted from both physical exertion and emotional disquiet, though his head was beginning to feel a little clearer. On the ride back, he decided to approach Jo sometime in the next day – he'd let her stew for long enough, that much was clear, and in hindsight it had perhaps not been entirely fair of him to dismiss her so readily that afternoon.

Zane stepped off the motorcycle and walked it to the garage door, sliding the garage door up with his left hand then pushing the motorcycle into the garage ahead of him, pausing to close and lock the door behind him. He removed his helmet, hanging it on the hook placed nearby for that very purpose, and headed for the door adjoining the kitchen. He stepped through and paused immediately, looking around. Something seemed… off, though he couldn't put his finger on just what that might be. He tossed his keys onto the kitchen table and turned into the hallway, pulling off his leather jacket and hanging it in the hall closet on his way to his bedroom.

He sighed deeply as he stepped into the room, feeling worn out and drawn thin. Then he frowned in puzzlement as he picked up the familiar but out of place scent of lemons and gunpowder. As his eyes began to adjust to the low light levels, Zane found his gaze drawn to the center of his bed, where a small, Josefina Lupo-shaped lump slumbered peacefully, judging by her deep, rhythmic breathing. Stray locks of dark hair framed her face where her hair had taken flight from her typically businesslike ponytail, and her face had relaxed into contentment in her sleep. Despite his earlier irritation, Zane felt his mouth curve into a small smile, secure in his private conviction that he'd never seen anything quite so beautiful. He'd tried to hold onto his righteous anger, over the course of the day, but all he could seem to feel regarding her tardy overtures was the most overwhelming sense of relief. She'd come back. She probably deserved better, this crazy, bold, incredible woman, and one day much too soon she would no doubt realize it too. But for today, she'd come back, and right now that was all that mattered.

* * *

Jo woke up slowly, feeling warm and comfortable and incredibly secure, but uncertain why she'd woken at all. The bed shifted beneath her as a new weight sank into the mattress, and in her half-asleep state Jo thought nothing of it. A low, amused voice came from over her shoulder, and she turned instinctively toward the affection in the voice.

"You know, I don't remember leaving this here," Zane said in mock-reflection.

Jo opened her eyes blearily, turning to look over her shoulder with a slightly dazed expression.

"Zane?" She mumbled. Zane, having just climbing onto the bed, had himself propped up on arm against the pillows. He'd stripped down to his boxers – his typical nightwear – and was watching her with an amused expression. Jo knit her eyebrows together with confusion.

"What time is it?" She asked, straining to see the clock behind him. He stared at her for a moment then glanced behind him at the clock.

"Looks like ten to me." He informed her. She grunted in a most unladylike way and turned back over, burrowing deeper into his pillow. Zane grinned to himself and pulled the blankets down beneath him, sliding between the sheets and closer to Jo. His smile went from teasing to tender as he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him.

"You're completely crazy, Jo-Jo, I hope you know that," he murmured as he pressed a soft kiss by the sharp curve of her shoulder blade. She _hmm_ed a sleepy, noncommittal acknowledgment, and Zane buried his face in the wild curtain of her dark hair then drifted off to sleep, content in the supposition that he had the entire length and breadth of the world in his arms.

* * *

Disclaimer: I still don't own Eureka. I also don't own Veronica Mars or Buffy. I don't know who does own Veronica Mars (whoever you are, you should've made the frakkin' movie), but I think we all know where the credit for Buffy goes. Why this matters you'll see below. ;)

A/N: So if anyone caught the Veronica Mars quote (too perfect not to use, friends) or the Buffy namesake (I actually had to look that one up. I don't know why it popped into my head.), congrats. You have unusual taste in tv shows. Anyways, moving along to the "don't hurt me!" part of the spiel. There's no point in trying to defend myself, here, guys. Zane and Jo did not make it easy for me to write this chapter, and in the meantime there were a myriad of shiny things to do. If it's any comfort, generally when I was all writer-blocked on this chapter I was working on later, easier chapters that are therefore more complete now. Still. This had probably made you periodically crazy. You should really thank ZeroGain for giving me the extra kick in the rear to finish this up. I was halfway there already but it was good to have a reminder that people were waiting on me. :) I even sort of like the way this chapter turned out in the end! So I really, really hope you do too.

ADM


	13. Chapter 13

In the end, neither Jo nor Zane chose to raise the subject of their disagreement after the impromptu truce that night. Jo woke the next morning, disoriented and surprised to find herself wrapped in Zane's arms, in his apartment, having dismissed her hazy memories of the night before as just a dream.

Once she'd finally managed to process her situation, her first instinct was to pull away and to shake him awake; to make her apology while he was still there and perhaps even amenable to conversation. But as she slid away from him in the bed, his grip around her waist tightened unconsciously and halted her in her tracks. She hesitated: turned around, facing him and the way his brow creased in unconscious dismay in response to her attempt at departure, and froze. He shifted closer, murmuring something unintelligible in his sleep, and she traced the familiar lines of his face with her eyes, soaking him in. She turned over again, steeling herself to leave the bed, when a firm tug at her waist brought her tumbling back down from where she'd had herself propped over the mattress with a soft _thud_.

"C'mere, crazy woman," he grumbled from behind her.

"Zane…" she protested half-heartedly, struggling reluctantly against his grasp, but he held surprisingly firm.

"Can't it wait?" He asked plaintively, and to her chagrin she found herself melting into his embrace. _We can talk later, after all, _she assured herself defensively, as she relaxed into his warmth and felt herself drifting off, _we have plenty of time._

* * *

Jo woke up later that morning to find Zane's side of the bed empty, making her heart sink. She slid out of the warm bed and padded across the room and into the hallway. She paused, catching an unexpectedly sweet scent on the air with her lately hypersensitive nose. She stepped into the kitchen, only to discover her – boyfriend? lover? baby daddy? – wearing only his pajama bottoms and a sheepish smile in front of a furiously sizzling frying pan. He was humming tunelessly to himself, his back to her where she stood in the doorway, and her entrance was so quiet that he jumped in surprise at the sound of a chair scraping across the tile floor. Never one to accept being caught off guard, he regained his equilibrium in only seconds. By the time he turned to face her, less than a minute later, his customary defenses were firmly in place – but unspoken emotions still lingered in his eyes.

"Pancake?" He inquired, proffering the pan full of half-cooked batter. Jo flashed him a quick smile, almost shy in the light of the preceding week's events, and slid into the chair she'd just pulled out. She glanced up at him, her breath catching a little in her chest from the way he looked at her, and bit her lip nervously.

"Blueberry?" She asked hopefully. The corner of his mouth quirked into a lopsided smile.

"That can be arranged," he replied, and, reassured, Jo settled into a morning like any other.

* * *

Whatever Jo's intentions had been when she had woken up that morning, 'later' never really came. Two weeks passed, and the two of them began to slip back into the routine that had been developing between them before their quarrel in GD. But little things had begun to change between them. Jo was beginning to spend more nights at Zane's place, and he'd quietly purchased a second toothbrush which he'd placed in his bathroom without comment. Dinners with the rest of the time traveling five had become increasingly relaxed since Zane had reached his understanding with Carter. But there was one change which was becoming gradually evident to both Zane and Jo, though they never spoke about it. It was still subtle, but more and more pronounced with each week: the sleek, smooth expanse of skin resting just above Jo's pelvic bone was becoming softly rounded. She'd silently taken refuge in the softer, looser fabric of the dress pants she would typically only wear for work, and the purchase of a number of loose, flowing cardigans, leaving her with a more classically feminine look than Zane could recall ever having seen before. Unsurprisingly, this had resulted in talk around town about the Enforcer going soft over Zane, which she'd been prompt and very nearly vicious in squelching. Jo's aggression, coupled with a few 'mysterious' incidents in the perpetrators' labs and a meaningful look or two on Zane's part, had momentarily put paid to such talk, but they both recognized that they were working on borrowed time. Sooner or later, word would have to get out about the baby, and when that day came the odds were very good that they'd lose their last thread of control over the situation. So when Carter found them having lunch at Café Diem that Monday afternoon, his news was met with mingled alarm and relief.

Vincent had just dropped their lunches on the table in front of them when the café door swung open and Carter strode in. He paused at the counter to make his order, then turned and leaned his back against the counter, surveying the room. His eyes landed on the two of them and he stopped short.

"Jo! Zane!" He exclaimed, glancing back at Vincent before crossing the room and pulling up a chair. Zane cast him an irritated look as he slid into place in the gap between them at the table.

"Feel free to join us, of course, Carter," Zane muttered. "Don't hesitate to help yourself to my fries, too." Jo cast him a quelling look, and for the most part the scowl vanished from his face, though hints of it lingered around his eyes.

"Don't mind if I do," Carter responded easily, temporarily sidetracked from the news of the hour to snag a couple of Zane's fries. Zane clenched his jaw, though the motion seemed mostly reflexive and unconscious. Carter himself appeared oblivious to Zane's irritation, though Jo, at least, knew better. Carter was good at hiding his thoughts when it suited him – it was something of which most people in Eureka were unaware. They were prone to the belief that with Jack Carter the surface was all there was to get. Jo suspected even Allison fell prey to this misconception, from time to time. Not that she blamed her. It had taken Jo a while to warm up to the man – the circumstances of his arrival had been admittedly somewhat infuriating for her, after all – and even longer before she'd realized how much _more _there was to Jack Carter. After years of working with the man, it was easy to spot the underlying thought processes that didn't make it into public consumption. And while Jo had always known that, between the two of them, Carter was the better reader of people, there were certain things one picked up in the Special Forces.

Carter, as it so happened, had a tell. Over the years, Jo had realized that when he was holding something back, be it emotion or observation, his hand would stray to fiddle with a wedding ring that was long since gone. Once she'd pieced together his personal history, the compulsive habit had begun to make sense. She'd never mentioned it to him, suspecting that the knowledge would only serve to make him uncomfortable – she was reasonably certain he was oblivious to this habit – and in any case it was a valuable source of information when looking to get one-up on Carter.

As Jo had gotten to know the new Zane better, she'd been surprised and faintly incredulous that for all his supposed brilliance as a hacker and something of a con man, Zane had failed to pick up on this intriguing detail. She was, frankly, a little disappointed in him for being just one more GD scientist who failed to recognize that it took more than any ordinary citizen to make a successful Sheriff of Eureka. It was something that the Zane she'd once known had picked up on within days of his relocation to Eureka.

In the last couple of weeks, though, he'd begun to connect the dots – at this point it'd be hard not to, she supposed – but it was something of a work in progress, not without the occasional relapse. So she let him stew. Let Carter have his fun – Zane would suss this one out eventually, and if she was very, very lucky, she'd get to watch. She had better things to do today than watch Carter needle Zane, however, so she reached out and gave the older man a sharp tap as he snagged another fry, ignoring his cry of protest.

"You had news?" she asked pointedly.

Carter's gaze jerked over to her in response. He gave her a sheepish look, catching the edge to her tone.

"Er… right. Zoe's coming home soon, for her Thanksgiving break." He informed them, almost apologetically. The entire table was silent for a moment, as Jo and Zane processed the news. Zane was the first to break the silence.

"That's good, then. You said you wanted to tell Zoe first, in person, before the news got out, remember?" He prompted Jo. She remembered, all right. She swallowed hard at the sympathy written on Carter's face. He knew better than anyone what it took to regain Zoe's forgiveness, much less gain her trust. Jo forced herself to smile.

"It will be fine," she said firmly, and willed herself to believe it. Zane gave her an encouraging smile, but she glanced away.

"I should get back to work," she said, pushing back her chair just as Vincent arrived with Carter's meal. Zane scrambled out of his seat as well, blatant in both his concern for Jo and his desire to avoid spending any time further than what was strictly necessary with Jack Carter. Carter raised his hands in half-hearted protest.

"Aw, come on!" He complained, grumbling to himself when all he got was an amused look from Jo and an incredulous one from Zane. Fortunately for him, Allison was stepping into the café just as Jo walked out, trailed by Zane. Outside the café, Zane caught Jo's arm and pulled her into a searing kiss, wrapping his arms around her and pressing his forehead against hers after pulling away, their noses brushing.

"It really is going to be fine, you know that, right?" He murmured, running a hand down the length of her silky ponytail in a gesture meant to comfort. Jo sighed and slid her head to the side, her cheek brushing against his, his light stubble scratching at her soft skin.

"I'll see you tonight, Zane," she said, pressing a kiss to the side of his jaw and pulling away. He frowned as he watched her walk to her car, his eyebrows knit in consternation, well aware that she'd dodged the question entirely. Eventually he saw her car start and turned away with resignation to head in the opposite direction, in order to reach the parking lot behind the café where his bike currently resided. As he rounded the corner, he nearly collided with Vincent, who was deep in conversation with a truck driver at the delivery entrance. Zane dodged at the last minute, crashing instead into a number of precariously stacked crates, several of which hit the ground, their lids popping open. In short order, there were pumpkins rolling everywhere while Vincent watched in dismay. Zane stood up, rubbing his back where he'd landed on the pointy end of a wooden crate. Vincent rounded on the hitherto unidentified perpetrator, bent on giving him a tongue lashing he would never forget (or at least trying to), until he recognized Zane and stopped short. Zane, for his part, forewent his typical intimidation session.

"What on earth are you doing with all these pumpkins?" He asked instead, his tone slightly incredulous. Vincent gave him an odd look.

"Halloween is in less than a week," Vincent pointed out, a little confused. "I have to decorate – and my menu will be stocked full of pure pumpkin-y goodness!" He added rapturously, forgetting momentarily who he was talking to as he closed his eyes at the very thought of all the spiced pumpkin desserts he would make: missing, consequentially, the way Zane went suddenly quite still at his announcement, his face turning into a blank mask.

When Vincent opened his eyes again only seconds later, Zane was already in the middle of the parking lot, straddling his motorcycle. Vincent blinked with surprise.

"Hey, aren't you at least going to help me with these pumpkins?" He demanded as Zane put his key in the ignition.

"Afraid not," Zane said tersely. Vincent opened his mouth to protest but found himself drowned out as Zane revved the engine and drove off without another word. Vincent watched him go, shaking his head.

"Goodness knows what it is Jo sees in him," the stocky chef muttered to himself as he knelt on the pavement to begin gathering pumpkins. "No discernible manners, utterly inconsiderate to others…"

* * *

Zane reached his apartment in record time, no doubt breaking a speed limit or two along the way. He burst into his apartment, tossing his wallet on the first available surface, and tore into his home office like the hounds of hell were on his heels. He made a beeline for his desk, pushing papers and other assorted detritus aside in search of his calendar. When the calendar was finally revealed, Zane peered at it for a moment before rocking back on his heels, stunned.

For perhaps the first time in his life, Zane had forgotten Halloween entirely, and he'd be lying if he claimed that not for one moment did that give him pause. Zane had always had a near fetishistic love for the autumn, having grown up amongst classic New England autumns around the suburbs of Boston. He loved the crisp oranges and the rich reds of the leaves; the tart flavor of fresh apple cider; the hint of wood smoke in the air; even the way the leaves crunched under his feet. For him, Halloween had always represented the peak of the season. Thanksgiving stood in stark contrast to Halloween as a reminder of everything gone wrong in his family, the absence of his father from their dinner table plainly apparent.

Zane perched on the arm of his computer chair, contemplating. It was the first time, in the two months of exhilaration and uncertainty that had followed Jo's announcement, that Zane had really stopped to think about what it was to which he had actually agreed, and the reality of his situation was staggering. He sank from the arm onto the seat of the chair, staring blankly at his desk calendar as the enormity of what he'd done finally hit him. When he'd agreed to their little charade, he'd barely thought five minutes ahead, much less the whole nine months. In the last two months he'd spent all his time reacting to events, rather than analyzing them. But what Zane recognized now was that, in essence, what he'd done that day was pledge his life to Jo Lupo. He was the father of this child, for better or for worse, and that wasn't going to change when the baby was born. And while the status of his relationship with Jo wasn't exactly crystal clear, this much was certain: they _were_ in a relationship of some kind. That ring around her neck had might as well be on her finger, the way things stood between them. If he was honest with himself, Zane wasn't sure he hated the thought.

He could have said no. He knew that. It wouldn't have been pretty and he wouldn't have been proud afterwards, but Zane knew it could have been done. Certainly it was what the Jo Lupo he remembered would have expected from him. He knew now that Jo – this Jo, at least – would never have held him accountable for a child he couldn't even remember conceiving, and he was confident she would have come up with some kind of plan in the end. But there was one thing Zane Donovan would never be, and that was a coward. Brave? Not precisely. Bravery was suggestive of noble deeds and courageous acts, liable to get you killed and best left to men like Jack Carter. Foolhardy, perhaps. Reckless? Always, and a bit of an adrenaline junkie, besides, (and wasn't that an excellent quality for a father-to-be, sneered a little voice in the back of his head that was strongly reminiscent of Dr. Isaac Parrish), but never a coward. In any case, he'd given his word now, and he wasn't the type to back out of a promise made in good faith.

So Zane would do this thing, even if it seemed to have tipped his world on its axis. He would eat lunch with Carter, face down Jo when the restrictions on her lifestyle sent her into a rage, and make his apologies to Zoe even though they'd never really dated to begin with. He would do all of this and more, and if it occasionally derailed him from things that had once seemed important – raising hell on Halloween, for instance – then so be it. Perhaps the most alarming thing of all was the way he no longer seemed to mind the prospect of missing out on Halloween. Lately, it seemed, there were better and brighter things to occupy his time – 'things' whose eyes lit up just a little when he entered the room – and in the end, there seemed to be no contest at all.

* * *

The following Sunday found Jo curled up in front of the television, a bowl of candy corn and a bag of licorice on the coffee table in front of her. Her eyes were fixed on the guilty pleasure television show in front of her when a firm knock sounded on her front door. Jo furrowed her brows, glancing at the window in the kitchen to confirm the time: not quite dusk. Unless things were, for whatever inexplicable reason, different in this Eureka, Jo had no reason to expect trick-or-treaters for at least another hour.

Casting a regretful glance at the television screen – the ominous music in the background was intensifying, portending the imminent occurrence of Something Bad onscreen – Jo pried herself off the sofa. She grabbed the bowl of candy stationed strategically along her path to the door, expecting, given the early hour, to find a particularly young child behind the door, a parent in tow.

She opened the door to find that the words were (roughly) what she'd expected, but the person to speak them was not.

"Trick or treat, Jo-Jo," Zane said, leaning against the railing of her front step with a faint smirk gracing his lips. She blinked, still somewhat surprised. She hadn't expected to see him at all tonight, had in fact assumed he'd be out terrorizing Carter - besides which, it wasn't even one of their usual nights. She glanced back to the television, hesitating. Zane took her silence for permission, not for the first time and certainly not for the last, and stepped inside, grabbing a handful of candy from her bowl as he did. Jo narrowed her eyes and opened her mouth to protest, but he easily anticipated her words and cut her off.

"Price of my presence," he informed her cheerily as he stole her spot on the sofa. Jo prepared to make a retort with regards to her utter indifference about his presence or absence, but froze as he settled in on her sofa. She hadn't really been expecting any company tonight – certainly hadn't planned on Zane catching her with a favorite guilty pleasure. For a moment her mind raced as she contemplated the best way to distract him before he noticed… Jo's train of thought derailed abruptly as she noticed the little smirk building on Zane's face as his eyebrows rose slowly to his forehead, eyes fixed on the screen.

"This is some high quality viewing material you've got here," he said, tone indicating his skepticism. Jo flushed involuntarily and tilted her chin upwards with defiance.

"It _is _Halloween," she reminded him mutinously. Zane, unsurprisingly, failed to take the bait and merely smiled at her in that infuriatingly knowing way of his before turning his eyes back to the screen, where someone was dying an excessively gruesome death. After a brief moment of hesitation, Jo took the seat next to him on the couch. She quickly found herself drawn back into the story playing out on her screen, but eventually she could no longer avoid sneaking a glance at Zane. Jo smirked to herself when she saw him flinch in response to a blow taken on the screen, his body tense from the suspenseful moment.

But the drama on the screen in front of them only held Zane's attention for so long, predictable as he found it, and in short order Jo found herself jumping a little in surprise as his hand snaked its way into her lap and began drawing circles lazily on her inner thigh. At first Jo managed to ignore it, but in no time at all she found herself squirming from the effect his touch was eliciting from her. She shot him a dirty look, but he had his best poker face on, his eyes fixed on the screen before him. Jo gritted her teeth, glancing fretfully at the clock – it was almost sunset, surely there would be trick-or-treaters arriving at any minute? – and squirmed away. But at the first hint of motion, Zane's hand tightened over her thigh, leaving her effectively trapped. Now that he knew he had her full attention, Zane leaned over and lightly whispered in her ear.

"Where are you going, Jo-Jo?" His warm breath tickled the tiny hairs lining her inner ear, and Jo shivered reflexively.

"Zane – " she began hotly, intending to inform him in no uncertain terms why nothing he did was going to get him what it was he seemed to be aiming for, when the doorbell rang and cut her off midsentence. Jo let out a deep sigh and Zane groaned with his annoyance, leaning in to nip delicately at the lobe of her ear and making her twitch a little before he transferred his attentions to the nook where her shoulders met her neck.

"Stay here," he murmured, tempting her badly. "Stay here, forget the kids, forget the candy. We can have the candy and this whole couch to ourselves." He pressed a few hot kisses up her neck, making Jo inhale sharply and press herself against him reflexively. Zane was just beginning to think the battle was won for good when the doorbell rang again.

Jo disentangled herself from Zane's grasp with a smile which was not quite apologetic, and went to open the door. His eyes trailed her across the room. She swung open the front door to reveal a trio of children, a pair of identical twins and one younger child.

"Trick or treat!" They chorused, making Jo's slightly forced smile grow a bit more genuine as she recalled with amusement Zane's arrival on her doorstep only an hour before.

"We're a double helix!" Chirped one of the twins, which, Jo noted, did in fact appear to be linked together. A double helix, indeed. She glanced at the patient-looking woman standing just behind the group, no doubt the one responsible for putting together the costumes, then looked down at the younger child, whose head was wreathed with glowing tubing.

"And what are you?" Jo asked the younger boy lightly. He looked up and gave her a shy smile, revealing the gap of a missing tooth. A stray glowing tube dangled in front of his face.

"I'm _Aequorea victoria_!" He announced with pride, stumbling slightly over the Latin pronunciation. Jo's eyes softened, and, before she could think better of it, she knelt before the little boy and brushed his 'tentacle' away from his eyes. Zane felt his breath catch in his throat from where he watched on the couch, unable to resist imagining Jo – Jo, and a tousle-haired little boy of their own.

"You sure are," Jo affirmed for the little boy, smiling with uncharacteristic gentleness. "Now, how about I get the three of you some candy?" There was, naturally, a veritable thunder of approval from all three children. Jo's smile widened, her eyes crinkling at the corners with her pleasure. She turned to reach for the bowl of candy on the nearby table and froze when she caught Zane's intent gaze upon her. It was like looking straight into two bright blue searchlights, and she very nearly fumbled the bowl before she was able to offer it to the children before her.

Once the candy had been distributed and they'd said their goodbyes, Jo shut the door behind their departing backs, turning as she did to face Zane where he sat on her couch.

"What?" She asked defensively, in response to his steady gaze. Zane favored her with a small smile, tinged with contemplation. His eyes drifted to the carefully disguised curve of her stomach.

"Do you ever wonder what it will be like?" He asked quietly, his keen blue eyes still studying her. Jo gaped slightly in surprise then snapped her mouth shut, rendered temporarily speechless. She padded slowly, almost warily, back to the couch and sat down next to him.

"I – sometimes." She said hesitantly. "Most of the time I just wonder how we'll be able to pull it off – to fool the entire town." Zane grinned at her, his bright eyes lit with mischief.

"The way you keep throwing yourself at me in public, Jo-Jo, I don't think it should be so hard to believe." Jo felt her cheeks warm with embarrassment, remembering being caught by Vincent only a few days prior in the small parking lot behind Café Diem, pressed against her car and wrapped in an embrace with Zane which was so heated it verged on indecent. She gave Zane a half playful, half annoyed shove.

"Don't be an ass," she muttered. He wrapped an arm around her, his low chuckle rumbling through his chest, vibrating lightly where he was pressed against her shoulder. Jo rolled her eyes but leaned into him with reluctant pleasure. They were silent for a moment or two.

"That could be us in a year or two, you know." Zane said finally. "Trick-or-treating, carving pumpkins, making costumes." Jo closed her eyes and rested her head against his shoulder, trying to imagine it. She could feel her heart speed up just a little at the thought. She took a deep breath, beating back her sudden anxiety, and focused on the image of a mini Zane wandering the streets of Eureka in search of candy. Her lips twitched with amusement at the thought – what a little terror he would be! – and she shot a quick glance at the man beside her, hiding a smirk.

"He'd have a Marine costume, of course," she suggested casually. Zane frowned, and a less charitable person might have called it a pout.

"I was thinking Einstein," He suggested, his tone attempting to be enticing. This time it was Jo's turn to smirk.

"You know, Fargo was Einstein for Founder's Day – you really want to give Fargo and your unborn child something in common?" Jo asked, looking up at Zane with eyebrows raised. Zane shuddered dramatically and looked down at her.

"Marine it is, then." Jo grinned. "I suppose you'll be wanting to carve the pumpkins too, what with your great prowess with the use of a knife." Zane guessed. Jo snorted indelicately.

"Please. There's a huge difference between carving people and carving pumpkins." She declared. Zane pursed his lips into a thoughtful moue before they quirked into a lopsided grin.

"You know, that was just as hot as it was disturbing." He informed her. Jo gave him a smug little smile and turned back to face the television, still secure in his arms.

"Yep." She agreed, popping the 'p' sound at the end with satisfaction. She paused, her smile turning wistful.

"When I was a kid, we used to have to get a bunch of pumpkins, because every year my Dad would insist on trying to carve a pumpkin, but he usually just ended up mutilating the thing. My mother always made up for it by carving a few good ones…" Jo trailed off, lost in thought, then glanced at Zane with a questioning light in her eyes. She opened her mouth to speak before hesitating and snapping it back shut again. The motion didn't go unnoticed.

"What?" He asked. Jo gave him a considering look.

"I was going to ask what you used to do for Halloween." She admitted. Zane raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"Shouldn't you know already? You seem to know it all – birthday, social security number, clothing sizes, boxers or briefs – okay, well maybe that one is my fault too – but really, it's enough to make a guy feel stalked…" He finished, smirking. Jo narrowed her eyes at him, twisting around to punch him in the shoulder with just enough force to make a point.

"Ow! Hey! What was that for?" Jo rolled her eyes.

"Don't be an ass!" She chided him.

"It was a legitimate question!" He protested. Jo gave him a meaningful look.

"Which… could have been phrased better." Zane conceded, rubbing his shoulder. Jo eyed the motion.

"Baby." She muttered.

"Sadist." He accused. She gave him a snide smile and he subsided, muttering to himself. After a moment or two had passed, Jo sighed.

"He – you – well, we never talked much about your childhood," she said uncertainly. "It seemed like a sensitive subject." Zane shrugged dismissively.

"Ancient history, really." He glanced at her, trying to gauge her response. "The typical story. Dad ran off when I was five, my Mom and my grandmother raised me. Until I left for MIT, that is," Zane added, as if conceding a point. Jo reflexively raised a hand to finger the chain around her neck. "The hero is the one that stays, after all," he said absently, as if speaking to himself.

A moment passed as the two of them sat there, quiet and deep in thought. Finally Zane turned to Jo, his face unusually solemn. When he spoke, his voice was low and full of intensity.

"I'll be there, Jo. I told you I would do this – all of this – and I meant every word of it. You can trust me." His eyes never left hers as he spoke.

"Thank you," Jo said faintly. She was about to speak again, though to say what she wasn't sure, when the doorbell rang, startling them both. With a sigh, Jo pushed herself off the couch and opened the door, greeting the group of trick-or-treaters and conversing with them briefly. As she offered them the bowl of candy, Zane slid off the couch behind her and crossed the room to stand next to her. The woman supervising the group of children at the door looked at him curiously. He was infamous in this town, after all, and no doubt she'd heard much of the latest gossip – and some of the old gossip as well, for that matter. He gave her a polite but disinterested smile, wrapping an arm around Jo's waist and waving as the little group walked off. Jo closed the door and twisted in his arms to face them.

"Alright," she said, laughter in her voice. "What's your angle?" Zane cocked his head, a little grin materializing on his face.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Josefina." He answered, deadpan. Jo declined to dignify that with a response, limiting herself instead to an incredulous look. Zane responded by pulling her flush against him, brushing her hair aside and whispering in her ear.

"Lose the candy, Jo-Jo," he murmured. "Leave it on the front step, leave the light on. The kids won't care." She pulled back, resisting with no little determination.

"That's such a cop-out, Zane," Jo protested. He kissed the delicate skin beneath her ear and she shuddered, closing her eyes involuntarily.

"Come on now, Jo-Jo," he teased. "This may very well be the last Halloween when you have time to engage in… adult recreation." Jo cracked open her eyes to give him a speculative look.

"You know, when you put it that way…" she began, sidling away from him to open the door once more and place the plastic bowl of candy on the well –lit front step. A brisk breeze ruffled his hair as Jo shut the door just a little too quickly, and Zane grinned.

"I knew you'd see reason," he proclaimed, and swept her into his arms in one swift motion. Jo groaned.

"Zane, for the love of God, I _will_ tase you," she warned him, smacking the palm of her hand against his chest for emphasis. "Put me down!"

"Hmm, kinky tonight, are we?" Jo made an exasperated noise in the back of her throat, though her glare was negated somewhat by the possessive way she was twining her fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck.

"Sometimes you are just too much for words, Zane Donovan," she murmured, almost to herself.

"Fortunately for you, nonverbal communication is a specialty of mine." Zane said, smirking. Jo laughed, the sound deep and throaty and making all the blood in Zane's body rush south. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, hard, before slipping out of his arms and moving to the bedroom door where she paused and glanced back. Zane's breath caught in his throat at the mischievous light in her eyes, knowing it was just for him.

In that moment, Zane recognized that nothing in his life had ever scared him quite the way that the mere possibility of disappointing Jo Lupo did. And he knew it was only a matter of time. Still – he took a deep breath, and stepped up.

* * *

Disclaimer: Still don't own Eureka. Nor do I own the not-named but kinda obvious tv show mentioned above. I think Jo would be a fan (and besides Erica Cerra was on it a week ago! Which is actually a total coincidence, but, you know, whatever.)

A/N: You cannot possibly be happier to read this chapter than I am to be done with it. Seriously. Please accept my sincerest apologies! And my congratulations to any of the Class of 2011 reading this, college or otherwise! I hope you've enjoyed this chapter - I have lost all perspective about how good/not good it is because I have read it _so many times._

Also, for anyone wondering, _Aequoria victoria _is the jellyfish from which green fluorescent protein was isolated to do all kinds of awesome things for science. I'm going to go ahead and assume you know what a double helix is.


	14. Chapter 14

Everything Is Illuminated

It was a stormy afternoon in late November, and Jo was racing through the house in her loose blue tank top and draped cardigan, shot through with nerves and adrenaline. She heard the front door shut from the bedroom, and shouted,

"Zane? Is that you?" He stepped through the doorway, dark hair looking rumpled and wet, hands stuffed into the pockets of his black leather jacket. Stranded drops of rain trickled down his jacket and onto her floor. In the back of her mind, Jo registered that there'd probably be muddy footprints to clean that night, but in her near-frantic state she scarcely cared.

"Yeah, it's me," he replied.

"Thank _God_. Did you get the cider? Please tell me you got the cider." She pled as she searched the closet for her shoes.

"_Yes,_ I got the cider," he said with exasperation, a tone which she proceeded to ignore.

"What about the – ?" He rolled his eyes and interrupted her,

"Whatever it is, I'm sure it's already in the car. Are you really _still_ not ready?" he queried, with no small amount of amusement, and she threw a shoe at him for his trouble. He caught it with ease and set it down on the bed, crossing the room to join her by the closet. "Jo, I'm pretty sure your shoe choice for the evening is going to make very little difference to our company." He pointed out gently, grabbing a wrist and pulling her up from the floor. He wrapped her in an embrace and she struggled half-heartedly, looking up at him, her eyes still frantic.

"Zane, _Zoe's_ going to be there." She said urgently, and he raised an eyebrow.

"So I've heard… and heard again," he reminded her, exasperation and amusement warring in his voice. She scowled at his good humor.

"And tonight I have to tell her about the baby, and – everything has to be perfect!" she insisted. His lips quirked ever so slightly.

"You really think your shoe choice is going to affect the outcome somehow?" He asked, smirk growing. She hit his chest with the pair of heels that had been forgotten in her hand.

"Yes!" she said stubbornly. "I have to wear the heels she bought me after Larry blew up my old house. She got them expecting I'd never wear them." She paused. "It's a _gesture_," she added, looking up at him helplessly. Zane's eyebrows rose –

"If memory serves, I liked those heels _very much_," he purred into her ear, voice low, and she pulled out of his embrace and punched his arm, hard.

"_That_ was a special occasion and if you value the use of your fingers you will not even _consider_ alluding to it tonight! Or _ever._"

"_Ow!_ You are _crazy,_ Lupo, I hope you know that!" he protested, but knelt briefly in her closet and pulled out the heels in question. His lips twitched with amusement as he took in the tall stiletto heels with the black bow on the back, not for the first time. "You know, Zoe might not appreciate the gesture so much if she knew how _fan-fucking-tastic_ they make your ass look." Jo shot him a withering glare.

"Well, then, I suppose you'd better restrain your appreciation," she said, voice glacial. "Or else you'll be lucky if you ever get close enough to see that _fantastic _ass again." Zane only smiled.

"Duly noted, Josefina," he responded dryly, then pulled her flush against him and brushed her lips with his. He brushed a stubbly cheek against hers and whispered softly in her ear, savoring the way her body jerked in reflex: "We're late." It took her a minute to register the words, but the moment she did was evident in the way she growled, deep in her throat, and shoved him away from her, smoothing down her now-damp shirt with irritation. She stalked across the room to grab her purse and strap on her hip holster and gun. She turned around, narrowing her eyes at him.

"_Well?_" she snarled. He put his hands up, mock-defensively.

"Coming, sunshine," he teased.

* * *

Across town and underground, a more relaxed scene was playing out in Jack Carter's living room. Allison had arrived with Kevin and Jenna, and Zoe, who had arrived from Boston the day before, was playing with Jenna on a small quilt surrounded by a play pen on the floor in front of the lit fire. Jack was in the kitchen, having an argument with S.A.R.A.H. about the finer nuances of turkey preparation while Allison leaned against the counter with a glass of red wine, watching his increased frustration with amusement. Kevin was on the couch, absorbed in a handheld video game.

"S.A.R.A.H! The turkey does not need pomegranate gravy! Or a miso rub, or kale stuffing! Kale is disgusting! Why would you ever stuff a turkey with it?"

"Sheriff Carter, I assure you, kale is a highly nutritious root. A person like yourself, who suffers from high cholesterol, would do well to use it as a healthy alternative to the fattening, high-sodium recipe for traditional cornbread stuffing – "

"S.A.R.A.H, I don't care how you feel about it; we're having cornbread stuffing for Thanksgiving! You're not even _eating _it!" The house sniffed in offense.

"There you go again, constantly reminding me of my physical constraints. This is about my relationship with Deputy Andy, isn't it?" S.A.R.A.H. complained. Zoe, seeing the danger inherent in having an angry house cooking their Thanksgiving dinner, broke in.

"S.A.R.A.H, why don't you start the Thanksgiving music? It's not really Thanksgiving without Dad's Thanksgiving mix." She affected a nonchalant tone. "You know, lame as it is." Jack's head swerved in her direction.

"Hey, hey, that music is _classic_. We don't disrespect the Beatles in this house," he reminded her pointedly.

"Oh, what_ever_," she replied, rolling her eyes and pretending they didn't have, and savor, this argument every year. Allison smiled into her wine.

"Sheriff Carter has instructed me not to play his 'Thanksgiving mix' until all the guests have arrived," S.A.R.A.H. responded to Zoe cheerfully. Not for the first time, Jack wondered if S.A.R.A.H, like Fargo, had a predilection for pushing buttons.

Zoe looked up from her spot on the floor.

"Dad, I didn't think we were having anyone else over. Are Henry and Grace coming this year?"

"Ah – no, they've gone to visit Grace's family," _or rather, meet them for the first time,_ Jack thought with a mild dose of sympathy and a much larger dose of amusement at the thought. Zoe processed this and then made the leap in reasoning to the identity of the missing guests. She scrambled up from the floor.

"Dad, I can't believe you would do this to me!" she hissed, voice rising slightly. "I thought I told you I did _not_ want to see them. You know that's why I waited until Thanksgiving to come home!" Jack gave her a steady gaze, not without sympathy.

"Zoe, I know you're upset and you're not ready to let go of this, but Jo is family, and I don't want you to regret this when you have a few years of perspective behind you. You never know what might happen." He said, echoing the conversation they'd had a few months prior at Harvard. Zoe, sidetracked, gave him a weird look.

"Dad, seriously, what is going on with you? Are you _sure_ you're not dying?" He rolled his eyes and walked over to her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"I am _very _sure," he said, looking her in the eye. "But, Zoe, you and Jo need to talk things out eventually. If you can forgive your mom and I for our divorce, don't you think you can forgive Jo for losing her head with Zane? You're old enough by now to understand that people can't always control the way they feel." Zoe leaned against him and he wrapped an affectionate arm around her.

"I just wish she would've told me right away," Zoe admitted, deflated.

"Zoe, I know Jo's been more open with you in the past but she's still a very private person. The things that are going on between she and Zane have been complicated from the start." He admitted. "It doesn't make things right, but I don't think she felt comfortable telling you. I'm not sure she even knew what to say. Besides," he added, eying her, "you weren't very receptive to negative input, like, at _all_, when you actually told us you were interested in Zane. I'm not convinced you would have stayed put long enough to listen!" Zoe flushed and stepped out of his embrace, the moment past.

"Ugh, what_ever_, Dad. Fine. I'll be on my best behavior," she gritted out, and stalked away. Jack watched her go, amused that she'd proven his point about criticism without even realizing it. He shook his head. College student she might be, but she was still his little girl, through and through. He heaved a deep sigh, and Allison, watching him sympathetically, walked over and leaned against the counter where he remained, entwining her fingers with his.

"Sheriff, Mr. Donovan and Ms. Lupo have arrived." S.A.R.A.H. announced. Jack supposed it was for the best that S.A.R.A.H. had broken the news of their arrival ahead of time, in any case.

"Jo and Zane, S.A.R.A.H. You can call them Jo and Zane." Jack reminded her. "Let them in. And cue up the music, would you? We have a party to throw," he concluded, knowing that Zoe would realize Zane and Jo had arrived the moment she heard the music start. In the background, S.A.R.A.H. queued up the Carters' cherished Thanksgiving mix tape. The door swished open to reveal an uncomfortable looking Zane and a nervous Jo. Jack scrutinized Jo quickly, as he'd become accustomed to in the last couple of weeks, knowing they walked a thin line between telling Zoe about the pregnancy and being caught out by Zoe over the pregnancy. He'd been disconcerted and somewhat alarmed when Zoe had declared her intention of remaining at Harvard until Thanksgiving, wondering how on earth they would keep her from finding out second-hand about the baby. It was fortunate that at twenty weeks Jo's bump was still easily disguised by loose, flowing clothes like the tank top and cardigan that were revealed as she peeled off her damp pea coat. Carter knew that at some time tonight, Jo intended to pull aside Zoe and share her news; it was his fondest hope that it would _not_ all end in tears.

"Hey Jo, Zane," Carter greeted with an unusual degree of enthusiasm, prompted in equal parts by the generous helping of wine he'd consumed in anticipation of the potentially difficult evening ahead and by the sheer delight of his first Thanksgiving spent in a real relationship with Allison. Jo smiled back at him but was unequal to his enthusiasm, her head craning anxiously around his frame in search of Zoe. Zane just looked uncomfortable, and Jack was forced to remember that this was, so far as Zane knew, his first Thanksgiving spent with the Carter's. If Jack was forced to hazard a guess, this was Zane's first Thanksgiving with most anyone since he'd initially dropped out of college and off the grid.

Unsurprisingly, after the initial moment of uncertainty, Zane managed to rally his standard sardonic smirk and devil-may-care attitude. Still, Jack could see the way his eyes flickered more than usual to the woman beside him. He directed the two inside and to the coat closet, not failing to see the way Jo's eyes lingered on Zane when the doors slid open. Damn. He had been hoping to never relive that moment, and yet it seemed a sudden inevitability; at least, until Jack was distracted by a movement from the corner of his eye. He raised his eyes to the stairs to see Zoe descending, looking ambivalent. Jack noticed with amusement that she'd changed from her casual sweatshirt into a sleek black dress with gold accents he'd never seen before which just about screamed _Maybe beaten, but never broken_, even to her typically oblivious father. As Zoe's father, he was just a little proud to see evidence that his little girl was growing up. As Jo's friend and the host of this little get together, he was dismayed to see that this was not going to go as smoothly as he'd hoped. Jack sighed. It was going to be a long night. Then he noticed Kevin eying Zoe from the couch. _Ah. Looks like we needed to have that talk after all_, he thought, his mind flashing back to the day the Emo-bot was caught spying on Jo in the shower. Correction: it was going to be a _very _long night.

As Zoe descended the stairs, Allison crossed the room to greet the freshly arrived couple, completely missing Kevin's sudden interest in the scene, for which Jack was grateful. A guy could only handle so much in one night, after all. Allison greeted Jo with a genuine smile then turned to greet Zane with somewhat less certainty as he hung his leather jacket in the closet. Zane gave her one of his automatic smiles in response, laden with charm but slightly lacking in sincerity. Jack could see Zoe spotting Zane and slowing in her grand entrance, looking to catch his eye and ensure he got the full dramatic effect of her appearance, but Zane was preoccupied with hanging Jo's dark blue pea coat, which she'd just tossed into his arms. He leaned over and muttered something with an ironic twist to his face once he'd disposed of the coat, and Jo threw her head back, laughing easily. It was a relief to see Jo laughing again, and Jack was pleased to see the look of obvious admiration that flashed briefly across Zane's face before he snaked an arm around Jo's waist to pull her closer. Jack looked back to see wistfulness written across his daughter's face; not for the first time, he wondered what had gone on in her head for the last two months. She caught his eyes and gave him a little half-shrug; his response would have been to cross the room and keep her company, but that was when Jo finally caught sight of Zoe. Within moments, all the color had drained from her face. _Zoe,_ she mouthed, but no words came out, and she crossed the room in a daze. Zoe met her at the bottom of the stairs, her face wooden.

"Jo." Zoe acknowledged, her tone cool, though not quite icy.

"Zoe." Jo was finally able to say, though her voice was low and uncertain. The two, once as close as sisters, regarded each other quietly. Across the room, Jack's fist was clenched around a couch cushion, with a supportive arm from Allison wrapped around his waist. Zane was leaning against the door to the coat closet, the expression on his face not quite achieving nonchalance. Despite his protestations to the contrary, he hoped to see the situation with Zoe resolved nearly as much as Jo did. The social damage he'd taken from the fiasco was nearly over, most of it having resolved itself, but Zane regretted the pain he and Jo had deliberately caused Zoe almost as much as he regretted the pain he and Zoe had managed to inflict upon Jo by appearing as a couple.

"Happy Thanksgiving," Zoe said quietly, her chin tipped defiantly upward as she slid past Jo at the base of the stairs. Her eyes flickered to Zane where he stood by the coat closet, but she sailed past him in a deliberate snub. Jack gave her a reproachful look as she passed him by, but she raised one eyebrow in a challenging look, daring him to make a scene. He cleared his throat nervously. _What was I thinking?_ Jack wondered, but it was long past too late for him to change his mind. All he could do was try to make this the best possible Thanksgiving it could be, under the circumstances. He turned his attention to his newest guests.

"So there are appetizers in the kitchen, you're welcome to take a seat wherever – just," Carter lowered his voice, causing Jo and Zane to step closer, "whatever you do, do _not_ argue with S.A.R.A.H. about the food. I don't know what Fargo was thinking when he programmed her, but she most certainly _is_ capable of getting even."

* * *

Jo followed Carter into the living room, smiling to herself. Some things never changed, and one of those things was Carter family Thanksgiving, which Zoe had once assured her had indeed been the very same every year as far back as she could remember. The only thing that had changed with time was the people to attend: Jo could still remember the first year she'd attended, three years ago. Allison herself had only come for the first time last year, after Nathan's death; Jo wondered if any of them had been, in this timeline. The only people likely to know would be Zoe and Kevin, neither of whom they could reasonably ask.

Jo glanced at Zane. She, at least, still remembered his first year in Eureka, after things had begun to heat up between them – she'd dragged him to Carter's dinner, very much against his will, which was not so different from his reaction to this evening. Jo also remembered how pleasantly surprised he'd been by the experience. It had cemented their already strengthening relationship and had boosted the foundation of mutual respect between him and Carter into what had eventually grown into a fond, though sometimes exasperated, friendship. Judging by the look on Zane's face now, Carter's classic Thanksgiving song was working its magic once more. She knew that he'd never heard it before, the first time around – she somehow doubted that would have changed.

Zane's eyebrows lifted in amusement as he followed the lyrics of the (apparently classic, though he'd never heard of it) Arlo Guthrie song about littering and the draft, amused by the tongue-in-cheek social commentary delivered via catchy guitar tune. It wasn't really a sense of humor he had expected to see Jack Carter exhibit, ever, but then again he'd never really thought he would one day hold back the Enforcer's hair as she faced morning sickness at seven in the morning. He settled deeper into the couch cushions, sliding his arm between Jo's back and the couch until it was wrapped firmly around her waist. She smiled at him, though she cast a nervous glance back where Zoe had disappeared into the kitchen.

Zane leaned in close to her, lips brushing against the curve of her ear.

"Did I mention you look incredible tonight, Jo-Jo?" He whispered lightly, the puff of air that traversed her sensitive skin making her shiver, though not from the cold. She rested the crown of her head against his cheek momentarily and smiled.

"It never hurts to have a reminder," she teased. Zane chuckled, and Jo could feel the vibration of his laughter where his chest pressed against her arm.

"Is that so?" He murmured, grinning. For just a moment, Jo savored the sense of security and contentment, but, remembering Zoe, pulled away reluctantly. Seeing the worried look on her face, his smile softened, and he brushed a stray wisp of hair away from her face.

"It'll be fine, Jo," he said reassuringly. She smiled back at him, but Zane could tell her heart wasn't really in it. He glanced across the room, smirking to himself when he noticed Jack and Allison dancing by the kitchen, Alice's Restaurant having ended and transitioned to the Beatles' "Do You Want To Know A Secret?" Allison's wine glass sat forgotten on the nearby table. He pulled Jo back to him, and, throwing him an exasperated glance, she resigned herself to staying pressed flush against him. Then he began humming along to the song while her ear rested against her chest. She craned her head upward to look at him.

"You're a secret romantic, Donovan." She teased, a smirk playing on her lips.

"Just know good music when I hear it, Lupo." He responded, blasé, but the soft smile his lips curled into as he watched her gave him away. Her eyes sparkled with amusement, prompting him to lean in and press a quick kiss to her lips.

"Dinner is served!" The house chirped, startling them both. Jo pushed herself up, sharing a glance with Zane that was loaded with significance, and then Zane stood from the couch, pulling Jo up after him. He pulled her close and whispered in her ear once more:

"Time to face the firing squad, Jo-Jo." She threw him an exasperated glance but walked with him into the kitchen, hands surreptitiously entwined between them.

In the kitchen, S.A.R.A.H. had slid the typically unused dining room table out of the wall. Jack was stacking it with all of the dishes S.A.R.A.H. had prepared, shaking his head and rolling his eyes at some of the odd foods S.A.R.A.H. had tried to slip in unnoticed, but knowing better than to argue by now. Zoe had busied herself with setting the table, and pointedly ignored Jo and Zane as they entered, causing Jo to grasp Zane's hand just a little tighter in silent expression of her worry. He flinched a little – Jo had quite the grip – but squeezed her hand lightly in return as a comforting gesture. It must have worked, as, to his relief, her hand loosened slightly in response.

* * *

Dinner that day was quieter than usual, enough so that it was evident even to Zane, who of course had no memory of prior Thanksgivings with the Carters for comparison. Allison and Carter overcompensated, trying with their nonstop chatter to make up for Zoe's pointed silence, Jo's quietly apologetic countenance, and Zane's typical standoffish reserve. Kevin chipped in occasionally, but otherwise the plucky teen remained uncharacteristically aloof, perhaps having his own difficulties as he processed the first family event to incorporate the burgeoning romantic relationship between his mother and the town Sheriff. The only one at the table who seemed oblivious to it all was Jenna, who drummed happily on the table attached to her high chair with her plastic spoon, occasionally drawing out the quieter members of the table – Zoe in particular – with the sheer force of her personality.

They had just reached the point where they began to take seconds, when a distant BOOM could be heard, the force of the mysterious impact not quite shaking S.A.R.A.H.'s foundations but sending reverberations into the concrete. The entire table froze, some of whom were in the process of raising a fork to their mouths.

"Sheriff Carter, my sensors are picking up on turbulent winds in the area." S.A.R.A.H. informed them calmly. "Also, there are reports of an unusual weather pattern forming from the monitors at GD. Shall I contact Director Fargo?" Jack hesitated and glanced back at Kevin and Zoe, reluctant to deal with a panicked Fargo, especially in front of the two people who would be expecting the sycophantic, dictatorial behavior of the altered timeline's Director Fargo. Ultimately he gave in, knowing that a failure on his part to contact the Director of GD during a crisis would look just as strange. Besides, though Fargo had a tendency to fall apart under pressure, he was a gifted scientist.

"Ah – yes, S.A.R.A.H, that would be great." The smart house opened a video conferencing channel on the screen Jack typically used for all his high definition television viewing needs. There was a pause and a blank screen as, on the other end of the line, Fargo scrambled to get to his home office and conferencing equipment. When the screen came to life, the assembled group stared, surprised, at the unusually unkempt picture Dr. Douglas Fargo presented. His glasses were askew and his hair rumpled. As he spoke, Jo's attention wandered idly from his face to the wall behind him. She couldn't help but snicker under her breath when she noticed the TRON poster displayed proudly behind him.

"Sheriff Carter!" Fargo burst out.

"What's going on now, Fargo?" Carter asked, sounding resigned.

"A TREE just fell into my house!" Fargo blurted, shaky. Carter straightened up in his chair, all of his attention focused on Fargo now.

"A tree? But you're alright?" He confirmed.

"I got lucky!" Fargo snapped. "And just now I received a tornado watch message from GD. A tornado! In Oregon! In November!" Carter glanced at the table of wide-eyed spectators.

"Well that's new." He muttered.

"The weather patterns indicated by the monitor at GD do suggest a tornado watch is advisable," S.A.R.A.H confirmed. "But that is quite unusual compared to the pattern of weather activity common to this area." There was a lengthy pause.

"It's got to be linked to something at GD." Carter said finally.

"If that's the case," Fargo said slowly, "the electromagnetic shield may be intensifying the effects of whatever project is involved."

"What do you mean?" Carter asked, though he wasn't sure he really wanted to know.

"Well – as you all no doubt noticed – " Fargo said, glancing to his side briefly, no doubt at a rain-splattered window, " – a storm front came in earlier from the west, bringing cold air and rain. Perfectly ordinary. But in order for a tornado watch to be called for, warm air near the ground would be necessary as well."

"It did seem unusually warm yesterday," Allison murmured. Fargo continued.

"The question really is _which _project is capable of having an effect on the air temperature. And as you all know, the purpose of the electromagnetic field is to prevent the spread of any GD projects from extending past Eureka. Generally, any conditions resulting from a project at GD will be limited to Eureka."

"_Generally?_" Carter asked pointedly. Fargo gave an unapologetic shrug.

"Well, you never know," he said. "But that's not my point. Depending on the source of the heating, the heat may be dissipating to the other side of the shield harmlessly. Or…"

"Or…?" Carter asked impatiently.

"_Or_ only certain wavelengths will escape and others will remain trapped inside, increasing the heat gradually."

"Like a giant microwave." Carter said flatly.

"Ahh – yeah, pretty much." Fargo confirmed. Carter dragged his hand over his face, muttering something about unhinged scientists living in giant microwaves, though Jo couldn't quite make out specifics. His hand slapped down on the table, rattling silverware and making everyone, including himself, jump.

"Okay. Either way, we have to get to GD and get a handle on the situation before it's too late. If I remember correctly, tornado watch – unlike tornado warning – means nothing has touched down, yes?" His audience stared blankly at him.

"Yes, Sheriff, that is correct," S.A.R.A.H. verified. Carter shrugged.

"US Marshall, remember?" He said by way of explanation. He looked back at the screen.

"Fargo, can you meet us at GD?" Fargo scowled.

"The tree got my car, too," he said sulkily. To his credit, Carter didn't bat an eye.

"We'll pick you up on our way, then." He told him, already moving across the room. Allison pushed back her chair and stood up.

"Fargo may not be the only one having trouble," she said. "The odds are good that there are already a few injuries to be dealt with." Carter looked at her grimly.

"Not as many as there will be if a tornado actually touches down here." He said, with the tone of one who knows of what they speak.

Allison's departure from the table lead to a cascade of chairs scraping back. Zoe stood up, wrapping her arms around her father.

"Dad, _please_ be careful," she asked him, her voice imploring. Carter hugged her tightly, but the embrace was brief.

"Aren't I always?" He asked rhetorically. The look on Zoe's face suggested that she did not find his response comforting in the least. Behind them, Allison was releasing Jenna from her high chair, only to place her in the playpen by the couches, pressing a firm kiss to her forehead. Jenna frowned slightly as her mother stepped away.

"Mamamamamama!" She chanted rhythmically, smacking her little fist on the ground.

"It's okay, Jenna, Mama will be back soon," Allison assured her, smiling.

"Mom?" Came Kevin's voice from behind her, and Allison froze, a slew of emotions washing over her face before she smoothed out her features and turned to face her son.

"Yes, Kevin?" She asked.

"Stay safe, okay?" His dark brown eyes were serious. Allison gave him a small, uncertain smile.

"I will, sweetie," she assured him. "Keep an eye on your sister though, will you?" He gave her a silent nod. She rubbed an affectionate hand over his close-cropped hair, stepping away. She met Carter by the bottom of the stairs.

"Shall we?" He asked. Her eyes flickered up to the sun roof that had been installed in S.A.R.A.H. after the B.R.A.D. fiasco. The sky above was dark and unforgiving.

"No time like the present," she said, though her words seemed hollow in light of the view from below.

"S.A.R.A.H, door." Carter instructed, and they stepped outside –

"AGH! Hail!" He could be heard shouting faintly from outside, before the door slipped closed again. Jo was only a few steps behind them, pulling her coat on.

"S.A.R.A.H, door," she requested, irritation lacing her voice from her annoyance that they'd left without her.

"Where do you think you're going?" Zane's voice stopped her short, and she turned around, looking slightly puzzled, S.A.R.A.H's door hanging open behind her. Zoe's ears perked with curiosity from the couch, where she'd been feigning disinterest since Allison and her Dad had left.

"I have to get some supplies from my house, and then I was going to meet Carter and Allison at GD." Jo explained casually: missing, or perhaps ignoring, the intensity behind Zane's eyes.

"Like _hell_ you are. You're staying right here in this bunker, which I'm pretty sure we just established is the safest place to be right now." Zane said, his tone nearly matter-of-fact, with the exception of the underlying agitation.

"Zane, this is bigger than some temporary restrictions Allison placed on me. They _need_ me out there. This is my job. I'm supposed to help keep this town safe." Jo argues, irritated by his attitude. She's a grown woman, after all, capable of making her own decisions, and she's hardly a wilting flower.

"You know what, I don't care. I don't give a damn whether it's your job or not, you are _not _going out there. You have a new job now, or had you forgotten? It's called _keeping that baby safe_, and if you're not interested in doing it right now, too bad. I'm here to do it for you."

Zoe had, at this point, given up on any pretenses that she was not entirely wrapped up in this argument, and when this next statement of Zane's registered, her jaw dropped. Her eyes shot to Kevin, where he lounged in the armchair nearby looking exasperated. The look on her face read _Well? _But all he did was look back at her and shrug expressively, as if to say _How should I know? They never tell me anything._ Zoe remembered the feeling well. _Touché_. She thought, and settled back in to the couch to watch the show.

"You have _no right _to keep me here, Zane Donovan," Jo hissed. "I'm pregnant, not helpless!" She crossed her arms over her chest tightly, her expression rife with irritation, and Zoe wondered how she'd missed the slight protrusion in Jo's stomach, over which Jo's arms were currently resting. _Am I really this oblivious?_ She wondered, dismayed. She'd always thought of herself as someone a little wiser to the ways of the world than the majority of kids from Eureka.

"Oh, _I_ have no right? No _right_? How about, I'm the father! That's my kid and you're not going out there!" The air around them was very nearly crackling with the energy and tension of the argument that stormed between them, and both Jo and Zane had by this point forgotten entirely about their audience, completely wrapped up in their own tumultuous little world.

"You're no father! You're just a – a pale imitation of a man I once loved! I'm _going_ and there's nothing you can do about it!" Jo spat in a rage, feeling anxious and restless and zeroing in on the one thing she expected would stop him short. Zane went still, his eyes frosty blue, the curve of his lips glacial.

"Maybe I am," he said, and Zoe was chilled just watching. "Maybe I'm everything you've ever said. But Josefina, and I do mean this, you will have to go through me if you want to get anywhere near that door. And, pale imitation or not, I don't think you're willing to do that." His voice dipped low as he finished the sentence, his eyes fixed determinedly on hers. Jo worked her jaw silently for a moment, rendered speechless by his ultimatum.

"Carter and Allison need help, they can't do this all by themselves," she argued finally, not quite looking him in the eye. The storm that raged around them was subsiding; of course, Zoe wasn't quite sure whether it was over or they were just standing temporarily in the eye of the storm. She wasn't sure which was better, either.

Zane sighed in one deep, gusty breath that was at once frustrated and resigned. His shoulders slumped and he suddenly looked older, and so incredibly exhausted.

"Look, I'll go help them." He said, voice still rough with irritation as he pulled his own jacket out of the closet. "Just… stay put, will you? Do it for the kid, if you won't do it for me." Zane half-shook his head, a self-mocking edge to the way he raised his eyebrows. "S.A.R.A.H., door,' he added, glancing behind him at the steel door to the bunker. It swung open a little more hastily than usual, to Zoe's muted amusement. It seemed that S.A.R.A.H. found Zane's sudden transition from nearly smothering concern to frigid indifference as disconcerting as Zoe herself did. He swept out the door without looking back, shoulders set and brittle as ice. Zoe's eyes shifted automatically to Jo as the door shut behind him. She was immediately alarmed by what she saw.

Jo stood frozen in place, her hand pressed to her lips as if stifling a sob. Her eyes were fixed where the door had just closed behind Zane. Zoe, unhesitating, flew across the room to her friend's side just as Jo's legs began to crumple beneath her with the force of her emotions. Zoe wrapped one arm around her and used her other hand to brace her friend's shoulder, pulling her back up as she began to sink to the floor.

"Here, Jo, you should really sit down…" Zoe murmured. Jo allowed Zoe to lead her to the couch without complaint, and that alone was alarming to the younger girl. Zoe cast around for something – anything – to get Jo to talk.

"So, it looks like there was one small detail you neglected to mention in that phone call." She said finally, a teasing note to her voice. Jo gave her a tremulous smile, recognizing her commentary for the distraction that it was.

"I thought it was a bit much to process over the phone." She admitted, then looked back down at her hands. "We've never fought like that before…" she murmured, trailing off. Zoe cocked her head and frowned.

"Well it hasn't really _been_ that long, has it?" She asked, puzzled, then grinned. "Pretty early for a baby to be in the picture too, though, you sly dog you!" Jo glanced at her, startled: for a moment she had forgotten how little Zoe knew.

"It's a little complicated," she hedged, and Zoe rolled her eyes.

"That's what you said over the phone, Jo. I'm here now, can't you just tell me already?" Jo's eyes widened in alarm.

"It doesn't matter now, Zoe, really. Now you know why I told you when I did – I'd just seen the test results." Jo said hastily. Zoe gave Jo a skeptical look.

"Yeah, I get why you finally manned up and told me – but why didn't you tell me when it started, or even better when I started trailing him around like a lost puppy, instead of letting me make a fool of myself?" Zoe demanded, until she caught a glimpse of the look on Jo's face. Her eyes narrowed.

"There's something you're not telling me." She stated flatly, eying the cagey expression on Jo's face.

"I'd really rather not talk about it, Zoe." Jo said firmly, though regretfully.

"And I really don't care how you feel about it, Jo." Zoe responded, studying Jo's face. Jo steeled herself to brush her off, but in that moment Zoe caught something familiar in Jo's expression. The moment she identified it, she gasped, sitting up straight as a board on the couch cushions.

"You look _just _like Dad does when he's about to pull some of his overprotective bullcrap." Zoe narrowed her eyes. "Whatever it is, you won't tell me because you think you're protecting me, don't you? God, you really _are_ becoming a parent." Despite the underlying annoyance in Zoe's words, Jo couldn't help but feel a sudden, pleased warmth at the thought. But Zoe wasn't done.

"I'm not a kid anymore, Jo. I can handle the truth." Zoe asserted. Jo bit her lip, looking at the stubborn face of the girl she'd watched grow into a young woman, and weighed her options. In the end, there was only one choice she could make if she ever wanted to forgive herself. She sighed.

"I wish I could tell you Zoe, I really, really do, but this is bigger than me and you. The more people know, the more people are in danger. I trust you, but," Jo's hand slid down to rest on the raised bump of her abdomen, an impulse which she'd spent the last two weeks resisting, "there's so much more at risk this time." Jo paused, waiting for an explosion that never came. Instead Zoe looked at her appraisingly.

"This really is serious, isn't it?" She asked quietly. "That's the real reason Dad showed up at Harvard." Jo said nothing, not wanting to give anything further away. "And you, Zane and –" Here Zoe grinned, " – the _baby_ are all mixed up in it somehow." She tilted her head thoughtfully. "Okay then. Here's the deal. You," she said, pointing at Jo, "are making me the godmother." Jo's eyebrows shot up.

"Why, Zoe, I'd be honored if you'd be the baby's godmother," she said, deadpan. Zoe smirked.

"Yeah, you would. And," she continued, "If I'm in town, I get to be at the birth." Jo froze, eyes widening.

"Uh, no offense, Zoe, but I'm not so sure –" Zoe cut her off.

"Those are my terms," she said, pointing a chiding finger at Jo. "I get to assist Allison with the birth and you get my silence." She grinned. "Really Jo, you'd be killing two birds with one stone – I stop asking questions_ and_ you further my premed education." When she put it like that, Jo thought, it was sort of hard to say no – and Carter would kill her if Zoe started asking tough questions. Jo narrowed her eyes at Zoe.

"You're not really giving me a choice." She stated flatly.

"Nope!" Zoe smirked.

"This is blackmail." Jo pointed out.

"Oh, definitely!" Zoe enthused.

"_Fine."_ Jo grumbled, though her annoyance was mostly feigned. Zoe's smirk widened into a genuine grin.

"Donovan birth, party of five." Zoe declared smugly, and Jo groaned. Zoe's expression turned thoughtful. "Wait, so are you two…?" she trailed off, raising her eyebrows significantly and tapping on her own unadorned ring finger. Jo was conscious of the weight of the ring strung around her neck as she scrambled to compose an answer.

"Um, we haven't, you know, really talked about…" Jo stammered, trailing off as her eyes were drawn back to the door and she was forcibly reminded about the events of a few minutes before. "I doubt he'll want anything to do with me now," she said in a small voice, horrified to feel tears welling up in her eyes. She looked away from Zoe, willing herself to calm down.

"Oh, Jo," Zoe said softly, shocked by the sight of her normally stoic friend on the edge of an emotional meltdown. "He wouldn't have been so upset if he didn't care." She reassured her. "I'm sure he'll come around. Though," she paused, her forehead crinkling with thought, "you may want to apologize. I think you hit a sore spot, though I can't imagine what it was. To be honest, you were barely making sense there at the end." Jo brushed the unshed tears away from her eyes, turning to give Zoe a watery smile.

"Thanks, Zo" she said softly. Zoe changed the subject quickly, hoping to distract her.

"So, how many weeks are you? When's the baby due?" She asked excitedly.

"Twenty weeks, and I'm due in mid-March," she replied absentmindedly, her eyes straying once more towards the door of the bunker.

"You're small, for twenty weeks," Zoe commented, looking her over.

"Hmm?" Jo murmured, distracted, then snapped back to attention. " Oh – Allison says that's actually quite common for, you know, the first time," Jo explained awkwardly, looking back at the younger woman. "Honestly, we were just glad nobody seemed to notice."

"Have you thought about any names?" Zoe leaned forward, intently, and Jo chuckled at the look on her face.

"Well –" She began, but was cut off by the _swoosh_ of the bunker door opening. Zoe whipped around to face the door and Jo's head snapped to attention behind her. In the doorway, there stood three figures, all looking somewhat worse for the wear – all three soaking wet, Allison supporting Jack as he limped through the door. Fargo peered out from behind them, looking impatient.

"_Dad_!" Zoe shouted, leaping from the couch and running to the pair at the door. Jo's eyes met those of Zane, who looked exhausted. Zane was the one to look away first, breaking eye contact without a word and making Jo's heart sink in her chest.

"Everything's alright, we're alright," Jack assured his daughter, whose hands flew to her hips.

"You certainly don't look alright to me!" Zoe argued.

"It's just a sprained ankle, Zoe, no need to worry," Allison cut in, and Zoe slid her arms up from her hips to wrap them protectively around herself while projecting a false sense of confidence.

"Big baby," she accused him, stepping back now that she'd been reassured. Jack looked indignant, but limited himself to shaking his head and muttering something under his breath about delinquent daughters. Behind them, Fargo crossed the room briskly, glancing upward.

"S.A.R.A.H, we're going to need access to GD servers."

"Certainly, Douglas," the smart house cooed in the tone she reserved for her programmer alone. The periscope slid down from the ceiling, making Zane raise his eyebrows from where he was perched against the nearby couch. Fargo had quite the flair for the dramatic.

"Carter figured out the problem when he slipped on the hail and sprained his ankle," Fargo explained, not taking his eyes off the screen before him as he began to type. "The smart roads are overheating – there must have been an error somewhere in the latest upgrade – they're meant to heat just enough to be snow resistant, not to inadvertently cook the whole town…" He typed furiously as he spoke, then paused to inspect the screen. "It looks as though there's data corruption, right here…" his voice trailed off and he began to type again.

"We were about to leave Fargo's for GD when Jack saw a funnel cloud forming," Allison said, her voice a little shaky. "That was when Jack slipped on the hail in Fargo's driveway and landed in the street, and realized the pavement was overheating." Behind her, Jo's lips twitched with amusement.

"Way to go, Dad." Zoe said approvingly. The people assembled in the room watched Fargo type frantically for a moment (excepting Kevin, eyes still fixed on his video game – there was something about growing up in Eureka which made one somewhat immune to concerns about the threat of imminent death – and Jenna, who had long since fallen into the sleep of the well-sated toddler).

"Got it!" Fargo announced triumphantly. "Now we just have to wait." He glanced up at the darkened skylight, biting his lip nervously.

"What?" Carter asked him, catching his look. Fargo hesitated.

"It's just… as far as tornadoes go, the damage may already be done." He admitted. "This should stop anything from escalating – and the smart pavement won't cook all of Eureka with the microwaves it was emitting – but I'm afraid the tornado warning is going to stick." Carter sighed, looking more old and tired than Zane was used to seeing him. Allison seemed to feel the same way, as she caught Carter's eye.

"Let's see to that ankle," she said, leading him towards the stairs. As they made it up the first step, the crowd around Fargo began to disperse. Zoe returned to her seat on the couch, glancing back to Jo expectantly as she sat down – but Jo's eyes were fixed on Zane. For a moment it looked as if she might approach him, but upon catching her eye he glanced away.

Zane, pointedly ignoring the people remaining in the living room, made his way to the kitchen, where he helped himself to a substantial slice of pecan pie along with some vanilla ice cream procured for the occasion. He was perched on the only open counter space in the kitchen when Zoe made her appearance. She took one look at him and raised her eyebrows.

"I don't even know where to start – the muddy trail of water that you've spread across the kitchen or the fact that you're actually sitting on the counter. My father would have a conniption." She commented.

"Good thing he's upstairs, then, isn't it?" Zane said, smirking. Zoe rolled her eyes and cut herself a smaller slice of apple pie, adding a scoop of vanilla ice cream to the plate. Zane had just taken another bite of pie when she spoke up.

"So, you and Jo?" She asked, almost nonchalant. Zane choked a little on his pie, then cleared his throat.

"Looks like it," he said noncommittally. Zoe gave him an amused look.

"Plus baby makes three?" His eyes widened fractionally and she laughed. "Might want to watch what you argue about in company," she pointed out.

"I'll keep that in mind," he said dryly. "Doesn't matter so much now that you know, in any case." He turned his focus back to his half-eaten slice of pie, and Zoe fell silent for a minute or two, rolling his words around in her mind thoughtfully. Out of the corner of his eyes, he watched as she tilted her head, giving him a calculating look, and for the first time Zane was forcibly reminded whose daughter she was.

"I really don't know you at all, do I?" she said thoughtfully, and for a moment he just blinked in surprise. He covered his surprise with a cool smile, which didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Seems to be going around," he said shortly. Zoe rolled her eyes impatiently.

"Oh, boo-hoo, so do something about it already," she said disparagingly. Her sage advice duly dispensed, she turned on her heel to return to the living room with her prize. Zane, now deep in thought, stayed behind as he scooped up the last of his ice cream from the plate.

_So do something about it already. _Zoe's words echoed in his head. Zane glanced back towards the living room, Jo's form on the couch just barely visible from his perch on the counter. _I might just do that, little Carter._

* * *

Disclaimer: Utterly unaffiliated with Eureka, unless you count my general stalkery of their Twitter accounts.

A/N: So I've actually been writing this chapter SINCE Thanksgiving 2010 - which was very inspirational, as a matter of fact - and it may be my favorite chapter of the story, right up there with Chapter 6, of which I must admit I was quite proud. I hope you enjoyed it too - the tornado bit was technically challenging (hence the hold-up) and, incidentally, inspired by the recent tornado in Massachusetts. It touched down near my college, tore up a bit of my close friend's sister's house, and was in fact predicted to come to our town. Of course, my parents didn't even momentarily believe our 200 year old house was about to be taken down by a tornado, so we were grocery shopping the whole time.

ADM


	15. Chapter 15

Everything Is Illuminated

As it transpired, Eureka was quite fortunate that Thanksgiving, though a tornado did touch down in Eureka that night, not far from Fargo's house. The population density of the area being relatively sparse – as was the case with most of Eureka, given that the town comprised a sizable swathe of land which was ensconced within one of Oregon's state forests and much larger than necessary to house a town which scarcely exceeded a population of 400.

As a result, after touchdown only five houses lay in the tornado's path, after which it tore through the nearby forest before dissipating, the conditions from which it arose accompanying it into oblivion. Eureka residents, accustomed to the extraordinary happening in their town with great regularity, took it in stride. As usual, there were protocols in place for those displaced from their homes. Temporary housing was at the ready, and each family was given the opportunity to rebuild or repair their homes as they pleased, or to make their temporary homes permanent. Jo's decision to stay with Carter earlier in the summer was atypical; most residents opted for the empty homes GD maintained as temporary housing, though like Jo many went on to have their homes rebuilt to their specifications.

By Monday, the displaced townspeople had settled into their new accommodations, having received such possessions as GD'S clean-up crews had recovered. Traffic drones had converged on the streets of the town, clearing up the detritus of both storm and tornado, rendering the streets of the town safe and passable. The techs responsible for the glitch in the smart roads system had received a sound tongue-lashing from Fargo (who, as it turned out, was unnervingly good at lecturing underlings – perhaps due to the number of times he had been subjected to similar lectures by the king of ego degradation himself, Nathan Stark.).

Monday morning found Jo camped out in her car in the parking lot behind Café Diem, cursing her own cowardice. They had always known that eventually the town would have to find out about her pregnancy; it had gone without saying that once Zoe knew, there was no reason to keep it secret any longer.

So there she was, sitting in the driver's seat of her car, wearing maternity clothes which, while they were frankly a relief from her increasingly uncomfortable wardrobe, did very little indeed to disguise the new curve to her abdomen. She'd always thought she'd be doing this with Zane at her side, but they'd barely spoken since Thanksgiving. The words she'd spoken in her impotent frustration had settled like a dark cloud between them, blocking any hint of meaningful contact. As he'd walked out of her house that night, she'd made a last ditch attempt at apology, stopping him short, but all he'd said was "There's nothing to apologize for" with an ironic twist to his lips, and stepped into the inky black night. She'd spent much of the ensuing days with Zoe, trying to forget the flash of hurt that had appeared on his face before he'd gone utterly cold.

Zoe, who had just startled her out of her reverie by appearing out of nowhere to knock on her window. Jo opened the door.

"You look like you're about to go to battle," Zoe said laughingly. "Aren't you even a little relieved to get the big secret off your chest?"

_If only you knew, _Jo thought wryly. "Zoe, what are you doing here?" She asked instead. Zoe clasped a hand to her heart dramatically.

"Jo, you wound me!" She declared, and then rolled her eyes. "Like I would miss this." Jo frowned.

"Shouldn't you be back at Harvard – it's a weekday!" Zoe shrugged.

"Classes were made to be skipped." She gave Jo a level look, reminding Jo of the elder Carter. "You obviously need me more. You don't have to do this alone, you know." Jo mustered up a grateful smile and pushed the door open the rest of the way, sliding out of the driver's seat. Zoe's eyes widened as Jo stood up and closed the door, the lock clicking into place.

"Wow. Seriously, how did a town full of geniuses not _notice_ that?" Jo smiled ruefully.

"Zoe, I saw the head of the geology department accidentally butter a donut the other day, he was so caught up in the article he was reading. They don't see what they're not looking for. I just hope I don't have to spell it out for them," she finished dryly.

"Please, Jo, give Vincent some credit." Zoe responded, eyes twinkling.

"Oh, I give Vincent plenty of credit. Why do you think I've been avoiding Café Diem for the last month?" Jo pointed out. Zoe laughed.

"Fair enough."

* * *

It was a busy morning at Café Diem, especially for a Monday. Between Thursday's tornado and the advent of the holidays, the normally peaceful café was verging on chaotic. The holiday season was nigh upon Global Dynamics and as the soporific effect of Thanksgiving wore off(in any case having been somewhat disrupted by the occasional accidental tornado), Eureka's scientists were becoming deeply aware of the upcoming festivities. Christmas meant family and celebration but it also meant deadlines, the end of the year. New Year's Eve was an ideal night to mark any number of deadlines, and as a result Eureka was always a veritable explosion of activity – and disaster – in December. It ranked only slightly below Tesla High's science fair as far as Jo's informal list of potential disasters went, and that was saying something.

So when Jo and Zoe stepped into the café that morning, the majority of the customers inside did not turn their heads upon hearing the tinkling little bell from over the café door (that was, of course, assuming the sound registered for them at all). Even Vincent was distracted, absorbed in the legal pad where he was scribbling his latest inspiration in holiday fare. A batch of spiced pumpkin muffins accompanied the rest of his "Muffin Mondays" display, standing testament to his last venture into the world of holiday-themed foodstuff. As he scribbled, he glanced up long enough to note there were newly arrived customers by the counter, then turned back to his legal pad. As he crossed some t's and dotted a few i's, very nearly on autopilot, some distant region of his brain registered what his conscious mind had missed. His head snapped back up, quite abruptly.

"Zoe?" He said, eyes widening in surprise. "And Jo?" Zoe and Jo exchanged an amused glance, waiting for Vincent to process his words. Vincent flushed a little.

"Not that it's strange to see you together, of course, Jo and Zoe, Zoe and Jo…" he trailed off. As he processed the big reconciliation, Jo stepped closer, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

"Hey, Vincent, we're just going to need something quick to go, I have to get in to the office…" Man-made tornadoes, whether deliberate or accidental, entailed rather a lot of paperwork, after all. But Vincent wasn't listening anymore. As Jo had stepped forward, the morning light illuminated the curve of her belly, making Vincent's eyes widen in shock. His mouth formed a silent "o" of surprise, and for a moment he was totally speechless. Nervous though she was, Jo couldn't entirely restrain an amused grin. She'd never seen Vincent so at a loss for words.

"I…you…oh my god!" Vincent's voice rang out across the café and Jo flinched, though she'd been expecting it. The eyes which before had been affixed to test results and grant proposals were now glued to the drama taking place at the front of the café. Behind Jo, the bell signaling the opening of the café door chimed, but Jo's eyes remained fixed on Vincent.

"Oh my god," he repeated. Zoe snickered from where she stood a few steps behind Jo.

"I think you broke him," she said in a stage whisper. Vincent pulled his eyes from Jo's waistline to her face.

"Con-congratulations!" He stammered out. "I mean, to you and, uh, you and Zane." He managed to resist voicing the questions written all over his face, his eyes widening suddenly at something behind Jo.

"Why, thank you, Vincent," Zane's voice purred behind her, making her startle where she stood. Next to her, Zoe was suspiciously unsurprised. Vincent glanced between Jo and Zane excitedly, clapping his hands once and rubbing them together with excitement.

"Champagne on the house, in honor of the parents-to-be!" He called out, rushing behind the counter.

"Everything's on the house, Vincent," someone shouted from the back of the café. Vincent waved a dismissing hand as he stepped into the walk-in fridge. Jo braced herself and turned to face Zane. When he looked at her, his face was carefully blank.

"What are you doing here?" She asked in an undertone.

"I meant it when I said I had your back," he said in a low voice, his eyes never leaving hers. Jo swallowed hard, involuntarily. She opened her mouth to say something, but Vincent's reappearance interrupted her.

"Champagne for the guests of honor – sparkling cider for our mother-to-be, of course," Vincent amended. Jo fixed a smile on her face and accepted her cider gracefully, trying to ignore the sick feeling in her stomach as she watched Zane. Next to her, Zoe turned to face the café and raised her own glass of sparkling cider.

"I'd like to propose a toast to the parents-to-be – may this baby be just as bullheaded as _both _ her parents." She said, grinning.

"Thanks," muttered Jo sarcastically as much of the room raised their champagne for the toast.

"Hey, I call it like I see it," Zoe shrugged.

Jo sipped her sparkling cider slowly – though her bouts of nausea had for the most part been restricted to her first trimester, sparkling cider on an empty stomach this early in the morning was just begging for trouble, pregnancy or not – and surveyed the well-wishers before her. Some of the customers with whom Jo was familiar looked as if they were considering coming over for an in-person congratulations, but Jo could tell the forbidding stare Zane was currently sporting behind her was likely to warn them off. In any other situation, Jo might have given Zane a piece of her mind for usurping control of the situation from her, but in that particular moment all she could seem to feel was relieved that she had a reprieve. Zoe seemed to have noticed his stare as well, causing her to lean in toward Jo and whisper.

"Well, you're all set if you have a girl – he's got the intimidating father stare down pat. Trust me, I would know." She finished, rolling her eyes. Jo's lips twitched with suppressed humor.

"Zo, I hate to break it to you, but your dad is about as intimidating as a koala. Lucas was intimidated because he genuinely cared about you and he knew how important your dad is to you." Zane leaned forward and Jo froze as his hot breath brushed the back of her neck.

"I can hear you, you know," he informed them under his breath. Zoe was the one to respond.

"Oh, we know," she replied cheerily. "Don't care." Zane pulled away, but Jo could feel his breath linger there, could sense his presence behind her even though he stood a good half foot away. She shifted uncomfortably on her feet.

"Vincent," she called out suddenly, "can I get one of those spiced pumpkin muffins to go? I really do need to get to the office," she added apologetically. Vincent turned to face her, looking surprised.

"Of course, of course," he said, hustling over to the counter to retrieve a muffin, Jo and Zoe following. Zane stayed behind, his gaze following them closely. When Zoe had called that morning, Zane had been skeptic.

"_Hello?" He answered groggily, glancing at the clock radio on his bedside table. It was not yet seven._

_ "Hey, Zane!" chirped an overly enthusiastic Zoe Carter from the other end of the line._

_ "Uh, hey, Zoe," he mumbled, perplexed and wanting badly to shove his face back into his pillow._

_ "Listen, Jo's doing the big reveal today at Café Diem – you know, maternity clothes, shocking Vincent, the works – you should go. She'll get there around 8:30, I think." Zane processed this information more slowly than usual, his brain still addled with sleep. They'd talked before about what they'd do when this day came, of course, but that had been before things fell apart during Thanksgiving. He'd always planned to be with her, though Jo had never asked him. Her words from Thanksgiving still echoed through his head – he knew, now, that _he_ wasn't the person she'd wanted there with her. Of course, he could hardly explain that to Zoe._

_ "Look, Zoe, I don't think…" But the little Carter had cut him off._

_ "No, _you_ look. I'm not crazy about the way you've handled things with me, but I'm going to let it go, because I'm happy for Jo. But no way in hell are you're going to ruin this for her by sulking. She _needs_ you. _Be_ there, or I'll know why!" She slammed the phone back down on the receiver before he could reply, leaving him wide awake and listening to the dial tone._

_ Zane lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. "She needs you," Zoe said, and it had sounded like the truth. He supposed it was the truth, as Zoe knew it. But it was someone else that Jo needed, someone who didn't exist anymore. Except… he sat up suddenly as a thought came to him. Except there was that long ago day when he'd tested his limits. Such a small thing – drink preferences. Scarcely worth consideration by any but the most desperate of men. He'd known without asking, once, how she would want her tea. And there had been other times, times when he'd been able to read her better than he had any right to do. Moments of déjà vu. The mind was a mysterious thing, after all, and the universe was full of infinite possibilities for a physicist such as himself. With the right tools, perhaps he could crack through that seemingly impenetrable wall._

_ Perhaps he could be the man she deserved, after all._

Ahead of him, Zoe and Jo moved towards the door of the café, Jo now carrying both a muffin and a smoothie, making Zane smile slightly. No doubt Vincent had been scandalized by the thought of sending a pregnant customer away with _only _a muffin larger than Zane's fist. Jo cast a glance back at him and the smile slid off his face, pain lancing through him when he saw her uncertain expression. He watched them move past the window of the café before he propelled himself away from the table and headed for the door, saying nothing to Vincent as he sailed by him.

Outside, it was a cold, grey morning which fit his mood perfectly. He had just reached his motorcycle when he realized Jo and Zoe had paused just around the corner of the building. Zane hesitated, standing next to his bike.

"I have an appointment with Allison later," Jo was admitting.

"Is she going to tell you the sex of the baby?" Zoe asked excitedly. Even from a distance, Zane caught the flash of amusement on Jo's face.

"If I decide I want to know," Jo said archly. The two began walking again.

"But Jo, of course you have to find out! Don't you want to start planning…" Zoe's voice faded away, and any response Jo might have made was drowned out by the silence they left behind as they rounded the corner of the building.

Zane stayed a minute longer, processing their words. Jo's appointment with Allison – he'd realized before it was sometime this week, of course. They'd spoken about it before Thanksgiving, though Jo had never suggested he come and he had never asked. She hadn't seemed to fix much importance to it at all, in fact. He would never have guessed that this would be the appointment in which she'd first have the opportunity to learn the baby's sex. He would never have guessed how badly he would want to know. He turned the information over in his mind, weighing his options.

Then he started his motorcycle. It looked like he had a busy day ahead, after all – and it was time he got working.

* * *

The morning started quietly at GD, though Zane found himself on autopilot for much of the morning. The events of the past week were cycling persistently through his head. Jo regretted what she had said at Thanksgiving, that much had been increasingly clear after her apology when he'd dutifully dropped her off at home that night. Her behavior in Cafe Diem had only reinforced his awareness of the fact.

But Zane had also seen the look in her eyes that night. For just a moment, before she'd had time to think about the words, she had meant it. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Jo was very aware that he wasn't the man she wanted him to be. Would never be the man she wanted him to be. And it hurt. For him it stung, but for her it ached somewhere deep inside, ate at her a little every day. And Zane suspected that it would never end, that it would always be there between them, that every time she saw that child she would think of an eternally absent father. Unless he did something about it. He wasn't sure what he _could_ do about it, of course, only that he had to try.

He'd only been in his lab for a few hours when Grace arrived. He eyed Dr. Monroe curiously. Grace was the only other person from the new timeline whose life had been thrown into disarray when the truth had come out, but they hadn't spoken much since the day he and Jo had confronted the rest of their little conspiracy with the news. He'd wondered, from time to time, how Grace and Henry's marriage was weathering the revelation of the timeline change – he had certainly noted their absence from Carter's Thanksgiving dinner.

"Zane, hi," she greeted, friendly and professional as always. "I was hoping I might be able to get a hand with some programming." He pushed back his chair from the desk and swirled around to face her fully, leaning back and stretching his linked hands behind his head.

"What did you have in mind?" Zane asked, curious. Grace stopped in front of him.

"Henry may have mentioned my current project? I've been working on a prototype for a PTSD therapy device which enables the patient to share memories with his therapist. The device itself could be ready for preliminary stages of human testing in a few months but I've been trying to develop a computer platform to maintain and analyze the data. Unfortunately, the deadline for my preliminary testing proposal is coming up with the end of the year. I could use an extra hand."

Zane was silent, his mind swift mind already racing forward, weighing his options, measuring all the angles. A memory sharing device - could that be the simple solution to an admittedly complex problem? If Jo would only share her memories with him... but even as he considered it, Zane knew it couldn't be that easy. He needed something else, something... more. He needed to know what the old Zane had known, to remember what the old Zane had experienced. Second-hand memories would never be enough, not for him and not for Jo. But... perhaps Grace's device could be tweaked, altered. How many hundreds of projects were currently active in GD? How many had long since been scrapped, leaving valuable materials behind to languish in the vast storage vaults? Surely there was something he could adapt, something he could use, something which could bridge the gaps of time and space itself...

Zane's mind never stopped as it barreled forward, but he managed to direct some of his focus to Grace herself.

"I'd be glad to help," he said abruptly. Grace bestowed a beatific smile upon him.

"Why thank you, Zane," she responded warmly. "It's good to have someone I can count on." Zane smiled wryly. It was good to hear his efforts acknowledged, though he doubted her gratefulness would last him for very long if she knew his intentions. He wished that, just for once, he might get the same acknowledgment from Jo.

"I'd love to see the specs, if you've got the time." Zane suggested.

"Well how about you come right on down to my lab and I can show you around," Grace offered."Unless you're too busy, of course," she added. Zane flashed his most charming smile at her, which for once was not lacking in sincerity.

"That would be perfect."

* * *

Zane's mind was working furiously as he left Grace's lab later that afternoon. The prototype had promise; he'd known it as soon as Grace had demonstrated the memory sharing capabilities of her neural network and he'd been hit with a vivid recollection of his first week in Eureka from Grace's perspective. (It had been comforting to remember that he was not, in fact, the only person left in town who remembered the week as he did, however it might seem these days.) If he could only tweak it to access the memories he'd lost to the vagaries of time and space. But he thought he had a line on that possibility, as well.

"...just saw Lupo down in the infirmary, getting checked out by Dr. Blake... Rob says she was getting an ultrasound, can you believe it? Looks like Donovan knocked her up." Zane barely managed to restrain himself from whipping around to glare at the man behind him. With a colossal effort, he managed to keep his mouth shut and his ears perked, for which he was rewarded.

"Yeah, well, good for him. At least someone in this godforsaken place is getting some." His companion responded, sounding as if he spoke from personal experience.

"The Sheriff sure is," the first man sneered.

"Rob hear anything else?" His companion asked.

"Just that the Enforcer didn't care to find out the gender. God only knows what she'll do with a baby anyways..." The man trailed off, his ribald laughter echoing down the corridor as they turned into another hallway behind Zane, whose silent fury shifted smoothly to regret with the man's final words. Jo, Zane knew, was going to be an incredible mother. In part, this was why Jo's behavior on Thanksgiving, which had been cavalier merging on self-destructive, had been so distressing for him. In so many ways she had been acting like a mother already. Her disregard for her own safety that night seemed to directly countermand the depth of concern for her child that had driven her to seek this arrangement in the first place. How she could be so prescient about future disasters yet so neatly disregard the dangers waiting just outside the door? If Jo would only let him in, listen to him – but she either wouldn't or couldn't, which either way was something Zane was starting to realize _he_ would have to fix. Fortunately, Grace had inadvertently provided him with a tool to do just that. There was just one other thing he would need, but Zane had to admit, he didn't like it, not in the least.

* * *

Zane had never thought much of the Akashic Field Theory, but on his trip down to GD'S massive storage rooms, he thought about it a very great deal indeed. He'd been reminded of it during his interlude with Grace earlier, when they'd shared a memory of his early days in Eureka.

Any number of things had surprised Zane about Eureka, starting with its existence in the first place (he'd never realized his government could be so ballsy, for one), the level of technological advancement, so far beyond the rest of the world - even, god help him, the close-knit community (something that had appealed to him for the five minutes before they'd all summarily rejected him).

Zane had never enjoyed going into a situation blind, and he had been forced into it by his transfer to Eureka. So he'd spent his early weeks playing catch up, goading Fargo into revealing bits and pieces of the puzzle of Nathan Stark and his death while scoping out the citizens of Eureka. When he'd finally managed to parse out the mystery that was Nathan Stark's death, Zane had been faintly disappointed. Oh, the means itself was fascinating - how often do people become untethered from time and space, after all? (Though before he'd passed even half a year in Eureka, Zane had already begun to suspect the answer was: more frequently than you'd think.) Either way, Stark had obviously been a scientific visionary. That he'd sacrificed himself for love of family and friends had struck Zane as - well, a waste, which was only reinforced as he became more familiar with said friends and family.

Zane had never met Nathan Stark, of course - had after all been paroled as a direct result of his death, when he was called in to work on the data from the Big Bang project that was based on his own theoretical work - but the first thing he noticed was that the Director of GD had his hands in a lot of pies. Zane's work was neither his only nor his most preferred project, though it had been given a great deal of funding and attention. Stark had a fascination - a fixation, some might say, and unbecoming of a scientist - on the Akashic field, though the object of his most intense focus had always been the Artifact which he believed to be linked to it. That fascination had gotten him in trouble, from time to time, but it had also informed the bulk of the research that went on in his time as Director of GD. It was this research that now had Zane on his foolhardy quest to the storage vaults of GD, and Zane was more than a little dismayed by the implications.

That he was now about to make a sacrifice not unlike Nathan Stark's, on behalf of one Josafina Lupo, using the remains of one of Stark's pet projects, no less - well, the irony wasn't lost on Zane. He'd thought himself so clever back then, and yet it had taken so little to prove him wrong. A few unexpected smiles, a familiar engagement ring and a tiny ball of cells with half his DNA and here he was. Apparently some things really were worth it.

Zane stopped in front of the doors to the storage vaults, hands tucked in the front pockets of his jeans. Fortunately for him, with Jo no longer playing the Enforcer his activity was not as closely monitored as it had been, and the head of GD's storage vaults was notoriously inattentive to the political realities of working at GD, existing in his own little bubble. Odds were, he would pay Zane little mind at all.

Zane swiped his access card reluctantly, not wanting to leave an electronic trail but not seeing a way around it - after the incident with Fargo's growing forcefield, security had been ramped up in the vaults. He would just have to hope nobody noticed and investigated the theft before he had a chance to make his move.

Zane nodded at the person at the front desk - an intern, he noted - then moved purposefully to the chemistry department's section of the vaults. He browsed carefully, keeping an eye always on the intern manning the desk, hyperaware of the security cameras trained on him, until he found what he was looking for. Lysergic acid diethylamide - LSD. Despite being relatively harmless, as drugs went, it was still something Zane would never want to get his hands on in normal circumstances. Zane prized his mind above all else, or had until now, and the fact that his plan was dependent on a brain-altering drug - well, he'd be lying if he said he liked the thought, even a little.

Stark hadn't just limited himself to researching the link between the Artifact and the Akashic field, but had branched out to other methods of tapping into the field, one of which was, farfetched as it sounded, LSD exposure. The results had been inconclusive for any number of reasons, Zane supposed, but his suspicion was that with Grace's PTSD device to direct the activity of his neural network, he'd have a better chance of success. If it weren't for the stories he still heard about Carl Carlson, he'd have written the whole thing off as a fairytale, himself.

Of course, all this would require an incredibly high dose of LSD, one which meant the unusually high LD-50 of the drug would not protect him from the risk of an overdose. It would be a risky procedure - it had been, in Stark's experimental trials, and expensive to boot, which was why after his death the experimental teams had been disbanded and the remains of those experiments had been exiled to these shelves.

Despite all this - all his reservations, his concern, and a healthy dose of fear to boot - Zane, to his credit, managed to swipe a sizable portion of the LSD from the shelf where it had been stacked in neatly wrapped bricks and continue casually through the chemistry section to the lower level where storage for the physics department resided. There he collected his decoy item - something large and relatively harmless for his lab - which he signed out and carried past the intern back on the upper level with a friendly nod. With any luck, all that the intern would remember would be the sizeable piece of equipment he'd taken and forget the face that had gone with it entirely, though of course the level of notoriety Zane had amassed in Eureka made that doubtful.

The doors slid shut behind him where he stood in the hallway outside the vault and he gave a short sigh of relief, the hitherto unnoticed tension in his shoulders relaxing as he strode through the hallway. Now all he would need to do would be to 'borrow' an IV line and some saline when the day came - not to mention Grace's device - and his scheme would be good to go. He'd expected to feel some kind of victory when he'd finally come up with a solution to this problem, but as it turned out, all he really felt was empty. Giving up your very reality - and, from a certain point of view, your own existence - was a heavy price to pay for doing the right thing.

* * *

It had been a long day, and it only seemed to be getting longer as Zane slipped inconspicuously through the empty halls of GD. After the lunch hour he'd spent at the cabin, he'd returned to work, though his energy was already lagging.

Now it was officially past closing, and only a few preoccupied scientists and the skeleton crew of nighttime staff haunted GD's halls. Zane had been biding his time for this moment. He slipped around the next corner and into another hallway smoothly. Unlike earlier that afternoon, Zane's excursion to the infirmary would stick out on GD's surveillance system. Fortunately, any penalties for what he was about to do here were likely to be mediated by the circumstances. Though, he thought, smiling ruefully to himself as he stepped into the infirmary, nothing would protect him from Allison if she found out - certainly not Eureka's law enforcement personnel, one of whom was her boyfriend and the other who, if his prior experience was at all valid, might actually eviscerate him if she discovered the intrusion into her personal files.

He hadn't really planned on this at the beginning of his day, but it seemed that everything had been leading up to this moment from the minute he'd received that phone call. It had been hanging at the back of his mind since he'd overheard Zoe's conversation with Jo, and Zane thought he might have been able to ignore the possibility which lay before him if it hadn't been for his second overheard conversation that day, far less pleasant but no less tempting in its content. It wasn't until after his trip to GD's storage vaults that Zane had made up his mind. There was really no going back from the actions he'd taken in the vault, actions which it was only a matter of time before someone discovered. Afterwards he'd sat in the cabin he'd been renovating for them – for Jo, for his child – and eaten lunch, and thought to himself with a calm that had surprised him, _I need to know who I'm doing this for._ When he was done eating he'd packed up the remnants of his lunch, climbed onto his motorcycle, and returned to GD to prepare himself for this moment.

Zane stopped in front of the access keypad for the infirmary door, which had long since been locked to allow only emergency personnel and the cleaning crew, and dug into his pocket for his screwdriver. He slid the fine tip beneath the keypad, leveraging it delicately until he had the keypad lifted into the slim margin between high enough to activate the alarm and too low to disable it. Once he had disabled the wire for the alarm, a few adjustments were all it took for the door to glide open quietly.

Zane stepped into the infirmary confidently, knowing that after Eva Thorne's arrival on the scene at GD and her subsequent worship by the soon-to-be dictator Fargo, the cameras in the inactive, less sensitive regions of GD were deactivated when the facility closed for the night, as a 'cost-saving' measure. Zane personally doubted that the current policy saved _anyone_ money; the absence of camera documentation in the initial phases of a classic Eureka disaster really only served to extend the amount of time necessary to identify the origin of said disaster - the few additional hours inevitably increasing the amount of cleanup to be done.

Zane activated the computer complex at the central rotunda and pulled up a chair to wait, remembering to note carefully from whence it had come. The computer seemed to take an eternity to boot - in spite of all the advanced technology at GD, some things simply couldn't be worked around. Zane passed the time tapping his fingers rhythmically against the sleek countertop, staring absently at the screen. When the login screen appeared, he moved swiftly, plugging in the portable hard drive he'd repurposed and reprogrammed for such tasks. His program popped up on the screen and he began typing furiously in order to pierce, rather than tear through, the safeguards on the data within.

His typing slowed as he slipped through the last of the network's defenses and began to parse through the patient names impatiently. Everyone in Eureka had been to the infirmary at least once in every year, infirmary being something of a misnomer for this hub of GD which covered everything from yearly check-ups to emergency surgeries and EMT work.

Zane hesitated when he reached Jo's name, hands hovering over the keyboard. Finally he reached out and pressed enter, his gaze holding a hint of reservation as Jo's file appeared on the screen. Zane, knowing instinctively that even now there were certain lines that shouldn't be crossed, shied away from the patient history at the forefront of the chart. Jo had never spoken about her time in the special forces - perhaps because she had felt, as Zane did, that her scars did all the talking for her. If she ever found out what he was doing, he wanted his motives to be above question - though he'd be lying if he denied wondering on occasion whether her military histories differed between the timelines. In any case, that was not a question to which an answer could be found in any GD database, and so Zane moved forward, selecting the most recent file from the bunch.

Zane read the page carefully. Allison's notes were, unsurprisingly, full of medical terminology - which was far from being Zane's specialty. It was in her summary where Allison broke out of her abbreviations and medical terms into a more colloquial description of the appointment. Both her affection for and frustration with her recalcitrant patient shone through the screen.

_The patient's stats are down slightly from our last appointment, but remain within normal parameters. Her stress level remains high, which is reflected by her elevated blood pressure. Urinary protein levels remain low, however, should continue to monitor for indications of preeclampsia. Fetal heartbeat is normal. Both mother and daughter appear to be healthy at this time, though the patient has requested the baby's sex remain a surprise._

Zane sat back heavily on the chair, letting out an involuntary gust of breath, his eyes fixed on the screen. _Mother and daughter._ They were having a girl. He had a daughter. His eyes slid to the top of the note, where a file was affixed. He clicked, curious, and a video clip appeared on the screen. As it began to play, an unfamiliar _whooshing _sound filled the room. It took a moment for the sound to register, and when it did, his breath caught. It was, of course, Jo's sonogram -and that was the baby's heartbeat.

A faint sound from the hallway drew Zane's attention away from the screen and he tensed, turning off the video quickly and waiting apprehensively for the doors to slide open. He'd put the keypad back into its place, of course, but the effort had been haphazard at best, and the alarm would still need to be rewired before he left. Between his tinkering with the keypad and the sound of the sonogram, it would be easy for someone to guess something was amiss in the infirmary.

The moment passed, the sound dissipating into the night without any further incident, and Zane's shoulders slumped in relief. Now more than ever, he hoped for his actions this evening to go unnoticed. He shut down the computer terminal quickly, resisting the urge to marvel once more at the sound of that heartbeat, collecting his tools before he stopped at the sliding doors of the infirmary to listen intently. When he'd planned this he'd considered tapping into the video surveillance feed covering the hallway, but had ultimately recognized that an attempt on the video surveillance would be treated as a much greater breach of GD's security by the Department of Defense if he were caught electronically. As it was now, the DoD wouldn't be pleased, but a mere invasion of medical records was more likely to be treated as the inappropriate result of a domestic spat than a breach of security, especially in the circumstances inherent to Eureka - regardless of the strict HIPAA laws which prevailed in the rest of the country.

Still, given that General Mansfield had it out for him, Zane would do better to avoid being caught at all, and the noise at the door had made him nervous. He hesitated for a long while before he activated the remote control he'd arranged on the hacked keypad and the door slid open. To his relief, the hallway was empty, and he quickly set to work on the keypad. All the while, in the back of his mind he could still hear that soft _whoosh-whoosh_,like the soundtrack of his new life. It took Zane only a few minutes to repair the alarm system, and soon he had shut down his lab for the night and made his way out of the building.

He didn't realize he'd made the decision to go to Jo until he was already halfway to her place, and when he did, Zane was less surprised than he would have thought. Somewhere in the back of his mind he recognized that this had been inevitable since he'd seen her in Cafe Diem that morning, and perhaps even before that. Because he was in love with Josefina Lupo in a way that was both unstoppable and irrevocable, the only thing he remained certain of in a world where everything he thought he knew about himself and his life had been torn out from under his feet. And he was going to throw it all to the wind, his whole life included, for the sliver of hope that some other Zane could do right by her.

He was a damned fool.

* * *

Jo was sprawled on the couch, her exhaustion seemingly bone-deep and insurmountable. There was an empty platter on the coffee table in front of her, with only a few stray crackers and crumbs of cheese remaining. She'd come home from GD and made a beeline for the couch, getting up only to retrieve said platter and make the occasional bathroom run.

After the overwhelming start to her morning, Jo had expected GD to be peaceful in comparison. Her days were, after all, limited to paperwork and supervision of her security team. And the day started quietly enough. Her appointment with Allison had been at 10:30, quick and easy. Allison had assured her that all was well with the baby - had indeed offered to tell her the baby's sex, just as Zoe had predicted. It wasn't until afterwards, as the gossip spread from Cafe Diem through GD that Jo began to feel uncomfortable, first with the curious stares and then with the forthright questions. It wasn't until one woman actually touched Jo's stomach that she finally hid in her office and locked the door. She'd fled the building the moment office hours were over, for once thanking her lucky stars that she wasn't wanted for anything more strenuous than paperwork and could therefore flee at will.

Her stop at Cafe Diem that evening hadn't been much better than the day that preceded it, however, and Jo had decided the better part of valor would be to make a retreat from all the hubbub and speculation. Which is why, when the knock on her door came, Jo startled in her seat and looked at the door like a deer in headlights. If the well-wishes and spectators were coming to her door now, she was going to say to hell with Allison's rules and recommendations, grab her tent (badly in need of a christening, in any case, as the replacement for the one she'd lost in the explosion) and make a run for the woods around Eureka. Alone and pregnant in the woods of Oregon was starting to hold a certain appeal.

Groaning, Jo stood and approached her front door.

"I reserve the right to shoot you if I decide you're wasting my - " the door swung open to reveal Zane " - time," she finished, staring at him in disbelief. "Zane?" She asked hesitantly, stepping closer.

"Jo," he acknowledged, thumbs wrapped casually in his belt straps and a tiny, ironic smile playing on his face. He stepped into her living room, closing the door behind him. A moment passed and neither of them moved, eyes locked, and then -

Zane's lips crashed into Jo's as he pulled her into her arms. Instantly Jo forgot all about her exhaustion, pressing her body flush against his and wrapping her arms around his neck. His kisses were intense in their focus, causing Jo to pull back with a breathy little laugh.

"Zane," she said, half-protesting, half-amused. "Don't you think that - "

"Nope," he interrupted before pulling her into another searing kiss.

"But shouldn't we - " Jo began again.

"Nope," he murmured, tugging her toward the bedroom. This time, she couldn't bring herself to pull away.

They crashed their way across the living room, bumping into one of Jo's couches and coming a hair's breadth away from knocking over a nearby lamp. Leaning against the couch, Jo pulled back just far enough to mutter "You break it, you buy it," against the corner of Zane's mouth. In response, he slipped a hand beneath the hem of her shirt and pulled it swiftly over her head.

"I'll buy you a hundred - fucking - lamps - if I - have to," he smirked, pressing kisses down the curve of her neck. He was about to reach for the clasp at the front of her bra, his hand skimming the smooth expanse of her waist, when he processed his own words and froze momentarily as he remembered that if all went well, he would be unable to make good on that promise himself. Jo caught his flinch of hesitation.

"Zane?" She inquired, reaching a hand up to cup his cheek with a hint of concern. "What is it?" Zane rallied, shaking off his momentary preoccupation and forcing himself to smile.

"Nothing," he said, letting his gaze drift lower, to the swell of her abdomen which was so prominent now, laid bare to him as she was. "You're beautiful," he told her, and meant it. Jo bit her lip in that way he knew she had when she felt uncertain.

"Thank you," she said softly, hazel eyes wide and expressive. Zane stepped close, sliding his hands down the gradually changing contours of her body, one hand slipping further to caress the firm expanse of skin stretching out below her belly button. His was unreadable, his eyes dark, and he said nothing as he pressed closer to her, but when he lowered his lips back to hers there was a hunger there that couldn't be disguised. Jo tilted her head back, moaning slightly into his mouth in a way that made him tighten his grip involuntarily, though the sound was swallowed by their embrace.

Zane pulled back, groaning.

"_Bedroom_," he said emphatically. Jo flashed him a mischievous smile.

"What, a big strong man like yourself can't handle me right here?" She asked him tauntingly, pouting her lips in a teasing moue and tossing her silky hair back, tousled as it was. Zane pressed in close, his mouth only a breath away as he leaned in.

"Is that what you want from me, Jo-Jo?" He asked, his eyes flashing a stormy blue. "You want me fast and hard, so close you can hardly breathe, right up against this couch? Or," he paused, his eyes fixing hungrily on her mouth as Jo licked her lips reflexively. "Did you want me long and slow and leisurely on your bed?"

"They, ah, both sound acceptable," she said in a breathy little voice. Zane pulled back an inch, smirking.

"Your opinion will be taken under advisement, of course," he remarked offhandedly, and in one smooth motion scooped her from the back of the couch and into his arms.

"_Zane_," Jo exclaimed, in the closest to a girly shriek she was likely to come.

"Nuh-uh, Jo-Jo. My show tonight." He teased her, his face half buried in her hair as he maneuvered his way into the bedroom. "Besides, I am so not propping you and that baby up over the back of the couch. It's hardly safe."

"Zane!" She said again, this time exasperated. He lay her on the bed with care, propping himself above her. The soft look in his eyes, just barely visible in the half light, left her suddenly quiet, holding her breath involuntarily. He reached out a callused hand to run down the length of her face, brushing a few stray hairs back into place with a gentleness that nearly brought tears to her eyes. She pressed her lips together tightly, until they were reduced to a thin white line as she steeled herself against the emotion. Jo pulled his face to hers, the darkness of the room hiding the extent of her suppressed emotions.

By the time he pulled away, she had already deftly opened the clasp of her bra and banished it to the floor, the delicate engagement ring on its fine gold chain now the only thing that remained, nestled between her breasts. Zane smiled knowingly at it, as one might greet an old friend, before dedicated himself to the thorough worship of her breasts - which, it hadn't escaped him, were softer and fuller every week. And sensitive: within seconds he had garnered a gasp and a sigh of pleasure.

Thus encouraged, Zane made short order of his own shirt, shedding it carelessly and tossing somewhere on the floor even as he applied himself to the removal of Jo's pants with due diligence.

Once Jo's pants were lost to the floor as well, Zane rocked back on his heels to appreciate his handiwork, his breath catching in his chest when he saw her. Jo was propped on her elbows, her long black hair spilling over her shoulders and the pillows, smooth as water; a tiny smile playing over her lips like the cat that ate the cream. She caught his hesitation and arched an eyebrow.

"Are you coming back, or am I going solo tonight?" She asked teasingly, shifting to glide one hand down the smooth expanse of her abdomen. His eyes widened, then narrowed.

"Maybe some other time, sweetheart," he purred. "But tonight you're all mine," he informed her, removing his already unbuttoned jeans swiftly, followed by his boxers, never taking his eyes off her. He added them to the growing collection of discarded clothes before climbing back onto the bed. Zane brushed a hand over her core with a forced air of idleness, making her shudder and arch against his hand. He inhaled sharply - God, she was _so _wet, and he felt, absurdly, like he might die of wanting her. Then he remembered that he very well might die _for _it, and it was a sobering thought. Tonight, damn it, he was going to be selfish. He was going to love her for who he was, right then and there, not who he might have been or who he perhaps could be. He thought he deserved that, at the very least. He hoped he did.

It was with that thought that he slipped away the last barrier between them - amusingly enough a simple pair of cotton panties - pressing a firm kiss to the mound of skin beneath and making Jo arch against him almost desperately.

"For the love of God, Zane," she pled, but he ignored her as he pressed a path upwards, trailing hot, wet kisses up her pelvic bone to the rounded expanse of flesh that was her belly, swollen with their child (and it was theirs, would always be _theirs_, in spite of what common sense and reason and physics said was possible). For a moment, all he could hear was that _whoosh-whoosh _from Allison's files. He pressed a lingering kiss just over her belly button, something prickling the corner of his eyes. Jo inhaled sharply, but he couldn't meet her eyes, afraid to see what might be written there. Instead he continued to traverse his path, following the fine line of downy hairs that interrupted the smooth expanse of her abdomen up to the valley between her breasts, unable to resist the urge to take a deep breath as he did, her scent - so uniquely Jo, the codominance of lemon and gunpowder making him smile - filling his lungs, outweighing all his senses and making his mind fuzzy while his blood pounded in his ears. He pressed soft kisses here, mindful of her increased sensitivity to touch.

Finally he reached her throat, where her pulse was leaping from his touch. He gave her pulse point a deft, playful lick. Jo made a strangled noise and he paused to give her a warm, languorous smile. When their eyes met, hers were rendered coffee-black with desire. She growled at him, conveying her meaning wordlessly but with great effect. Zane raised his eyebrows, affecting nonchalance with no little effort.

"As you wish," he said mildly, then grinned, sliding his body over hers purposefully. He nipped her neck mischievously as he slipped inside her, making her gasp and arch her back as she wrapped her arms around him. For a long, tortuous moment he paused, wanting to save the moment and make it last.

Jo squirmed beneath him, eager and anxious after the days they'd spent apart, missing him and still searching for the words that might make it all okay. But Zane stilled her without a word, reaching down to cup her face and kiss her sweetly, leaving her with her lips parted and breathless as he began moving with agonizing slowness. Jo clutched a fist in his hair, almost whimpering with the exquisite torment of it.

"Zane, _please_," she breathed, almost shattering the last of his restraint as he began to speed up, each slide forward coming a little faster and lasting a little longer than the previous one until Zane himself could take it no longer and buried his face on Jo's neck, nipping her sharply and losing what vestiges of control still remained. In return, Jo cried out wordlessly and clutched sharply at his back, leaving red little crescent-moon marks on the smooth skin between his shoulder blades. Zane melted into her, feeling boneless and Jo struggled to catch her breath in the aftermath.

A long moment passed before either of them could muster the presence of mind to move, though finally Zane managed to recall dimly in the back of his mind that oxygen was important and pulled back to lay beside Jo and let her breathe. He curled onto his side next to her and tangled a questing hand in her hair, feeling surprisingly content. Tomorrow. He would think about it tomorrow. For now, this was all that mattered.

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own Eureka. But I am so, so excited for it to air tonight.

A/N: YES! YES! I finished the chapter in time for the premiere! I am SO pleased with myself right now, and it's a good thing too, because people will be showing up to watch it in barely an hour and a half. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, there was a lot to get through - lots of important information, and oh, yeah, Zane is being an idiot. He was always going to be an idiot about this. I've been trying to warn you this would happen for many chapters now, haha. In case you were wondering, the thing with the LSD (yes, it sounds absurdly farfetched, but so is the whole concept of the Akashic field as far as I'm concerned. Theoretical physics type stuff is so strange. Give me cells, any day. Um, anyways it was inspired by Fringe's use of LSD to access an alternate universe... and the CIA's supposed experimentation on using LSD for mind control which also when you write it down sounds insane.) Also, I know nothing about hacking except what I've watched them do on television, but, ah... I was a little nervous about doing a computer search for that one. Kind of asking for it, don't you think?

ADM


	16. Chapter 16

Everything Is Illuminated

The weeks following Thanksgiving were uneasy ones for Jo. It had quickly become clear to Jo in the days following her reconciliation with Zane that something had broken between them during their latest fight, but Zane smoothly rebuffed all her attempts to repair the damage. Nothing in his behavior suggested that he was angry; on the contrary, he had been all gracious solicitude since that Monday night when he'd appeared on her front step. But he was distant, as if he'd taken a step back from his own life and become an impartial observer. He'd taken to disappearing for hours, and not a soul in town could tell her where he went. When he was around, more often than not he was scribbling in a notebook or working late hours in Grace's lab.

Jo didn't know what to make of it. Nor did Zoe, who by this time was calling faithfully every night to check up on the older woman, though she was deep into exam period within a week of her return to Harvard. In the meantime, the denizens of Eureka had latched onto their precious scandal - the security chief of Global Dynamics pregnant by the town's greatest mischief maker was surely the gossip of the year. Jo could barely make it three feet without an interruption from the latest well-wisher or busybody or combination of the two, and her patience was wearing paper-thin.

Which is why, when she stormed into Carter's office on a chilly Friday afternoon, he was somewhat less than surprised.

"I swear I am going to _shoot _the next person who touches my stomach." She snarled. Carter glanced up, unconcerned.

"That supposed to be a confession?" He asked mildly. "Because generally speaking you're not supposed to confess until you've actually gone ahead and committed a crime." Jo narrowed her eyes at him.

"Just give me a few more hours," she growled. Carter sighed dramatically.

"If you must, but really, the paperwork alone..." Jo rolled her eyes but smiled, finding it hard to maintain her irritation in the face of his amusement. She slumped in a chair across the room from him and sighed. Carter put down the files he'd been shuffling through, the heavy paper slapping against the desk. He gave her a concerned look.

"Are you alright?" He asked her carefully. Jo gave him a wan smile.

"I'm fine," she replied, "just tired." Carter watched her closely.

"I've been talking to Zoe," he told her. Jo gave him a cautious look.

"Yeah?" She asked noncommittally.

"She wants you to come visit, you know," he said. Jo bit her lip slightly.

"I know," she admitted. Carter studied her.

"I think you should go," he said suddenly. Jo's eyes darted up to his.

"You do?" She asked, surprised. Usually he stayed out of these things.

"I do," he said, scooping his chair back to rummage through a desk drawer, "which is why I got you this." He tossed her a thick envelope, which she caught smoothly. Two round-trip tickets from Portland to Boston slipped into the palm of her hand. Jo looked up at him.

"One for you, one for Zoe," he said by way of explanation. "She has a few days free after her finals end, and she can fly back with you. Win-win." Jo stared at him. "And if you could find out what's going on with the shirtless wonder..." he added hopefully, breaking her spell of surprise. Jo shook her head.

"I can't take these," she protested. "Carter, it's the holiday season. Things are out of control at GD as it is!" Carter shrugged.

"Why not? You said it yourself, plenty of times now - you're on glorified desk duty at GD. Your team and I can take care of anything that comes up." Jo fingered the edges of the tickets thoughtfully. "You need a break, Jo," he said gently. She thought about the distance that had developed between her and Zane, about the smothering townspeople and the snide remarks behind her back at work.

Then she thought about the blessed anonymity of a big city and the very real joy she'd felt, reconnecting with Zoe.

"Okay," she said, surprising herself as much as Carter. "I'll go."

* * *

Once Jo made the decision to go to Boston, things moved fast. Carter's tickets were for the 17th of December, barely a week away. She'd told Zane over dinner that night, and felt justified in her decision when he'd exhibited the most interest she'd seen from him in weeks, though a strange expression had seemed to flicker momentarily over his face. Somehow, his offer to drive her to the airport in Portland had surprised her even further, given how preoccupied he'd been, in past weeks.

Which was how Jo had found herself here, in front of the US Airways terminal of the Portland International Airport as Zane tugged her suitcase and laptop bag out of the trunk of her car. He'd insisted on purchasing her a wheeled suitcase for the occasion, adamant that she avoid unnecessary heavy lifting.

He fixed her with a gimlet stare as she reached for the handle of the suitcase.

"Promise you'll take care of yourself," Zane insisted as she rolled it toward her. Jo rolled her eyes at him, but inwardly her heart leapt a little at another glimpse of the man who'd seemed to have disappeared from her life in the past few weeks.

"I will," she assured him. He caught her gaze, his blue eyes suddenly darkened, and stepped closer. Jo's breath caught, and she let go of the suitcase handle reflexively. He raised a hand to her temple, where he gently stroked back a stray wisp of hair and traced the tip of her ear with light fingers. Heart suddenly pounding, Jo held his eyes with her own.

"Have a good time with Zoe," Zane said, his eyes caressing the planes of her face as if he were trying to commit her to memory. "I'll be here for you when you get back." He dropped his hand from her face with a start, and stepped toward the car. Jo let out the breath she'd been holding, oddly disappointed, but Zane turned back upon reaching the door to the driver's side. Conflict was written in his eyes.

"Jo?" he said, slowly, as if he was testing the way the words felt on his tongue, "I love you." Without another word, he opened the door and slipped into the driver's seat. Jo watched, frozen, as he sped away just a little too fast for comfort. It was a long time before she turned to enter the terminal.

* * *

Zane clenched the steering wheel as he sped away from the airport, furious with himself. He should never have offered to drive her to the airport. He'd been avoiding her for nearly two weeks, certain her presence would only serve to make him second-guess his decision. But when she'd announced her plans to go visit Zoe, he'd immediately recognized it for the golden opportunity it was. So far, Jo hadn't really begun to question his absences, but if there was one thing he knew about Josefina Lupo, it was that she had a nose for illicit activities. By leaving, she'd inadvertently given him the window he needed to put all his planning into motion.

He hadn't expected the way the news would twist in his chest, how it would make it all real. In an instant, Zane had realized he might never see her again, once she got on that plane, and before he could think better of it, he'd offered to drive her. It would be fine, he had rationalized. He would drive her to the airport, give himself a chance to say goodbye.

He hadn't counted on the way her lips would part ever so slightly when she looked at him, or the way a shaft of light would turn her eyes that radiant honey gold color.

And he hadn't been able to stop himself from telling her he loved her, just once before it was too late.

Zane freed his left hand and raised it to massage his temple briefly. It would be a long drive home.

* * *

Jo was unusually subdued when her final plane touched down in Boston much later that afternoon. Zane's words continued swimming through her mind as she left the plane, as she waited in the baggage terminal, as she dragged her luggage to the bus station. She barely noticed the helpful older man who grabbed her luggage off the metal conveyor belt for her, muttering a quiet "thanks" as she dragged away her suitcase.

Zoe met her at the bus station outside Logan Airport, bouncing on her heels with enthusiasm which Jo was too tired and too confused to match. The younger woman noticed, slowing down and giving Jo a sideways look of concern but ultimately saying nothing. Instead, she filled the ride to Harvard with idle chatter, letting Jo nod her head or hum in agreement every once in awhile.

To Zoe's credit, she managed not to comment on Jo's inattentiveness, focusing on getting her clearly overwhelmed friend somewhere a little more relaxing. When they finally reached her dorm room, she breathed a quiet sigh of relief, turning to her guest.

"So you can put your stuff wherever. I borrowed an inflatable mattress from a friend, and you can sleep on the bed." Jo opened her mouth, but Zoe cut her off. "I know you're perfectly capable of roughing it, but you're pregnant. You shouldn't have to." Jo smiled faintly.

"Actually, I was just going to say, 'thank you'." She rubbed her lower back, her expression rueful. "I'm not sure I could manage on the floor." Zoe gave her a weird look, taking a seat on the chair at her desk.

"Okay, who are you and what have you done with Jo?" Zoe asked, with no real heat behind her words. "Seriously, something's going on with you. Spill." Jo gave her a tired smile.

"It's nothing Zoe, really," she assured her, sitting down on Zoe's bed. "I'm just trying to take it easy." Zoe crossed her arms over her chest, her expression unconvinced.

"Try again." She said. Jo sighed.

"Zane told me he loved me," she admitted. Zoe surged onto her feet in surprise.

"Jo, that's great!" She exclaimed. "Maybe that's why he's been acting so weird for the last few weeks - he's been trying to tell you!" But Jo shook her head. She'd thought about this almost the whole way to Boston.

"No," she said slowly. "I don't think he meant to say it. He looked upset when he drove away." She shook her head. "I shouldn't have come," she said, a wave of dread rising up with her sudden certainty. Something was wrong at home, and she'd realized it too late. Zoe bit her lip, watching her uncertainly.

"Well, now that you're here," she said with forced cheerfulness, a little concerned herself, "how about I give you the grand tour?" Jo smiled at her weakly, trying to brush away her sense of dread. "I'd like that," she said honestly.

As Zoe led her from the room, chattering happily, Jo thought once more of Zane's expression that morning when he'd driven away. She'd give Carter a call tonight, she decided, the weight on her shoulders reducing somewhat. He'd keep an eye on things.

But the persistent sense of impending disaster never quite went away.

* * *

The call didn't come until two days later, when Jo had just begun to relax and dismiss her fears. She was running an errand with Zoe, picking up Zoe's newly repaired bicycle from a little shop just outside of Cambridge. It was a frigid day, and the two of them had bundled up, though by now the extra layers did very little to disguise Jo's baby bump.

Inside, the store was well lit and clean, though bicycles and bicycle parts seemed to hang from every available surface and there was the occasional tire track on the floor. Something smelled incredible, and Jo's eyebrows rose when she spotted the electric skillet full of stir fry currently being ladled into bowls by the man at the counter. He glanced up as the door opened.

"Zoe! Hey, Paul, Zoe's here!" He shouted over his shoulder.

"I heard you the first time!" Came a muffled voice from below. "Come give me a hand with the elevator!" The man at the counter scowled, stepping away from his food, and looked up at them.

"Just one moment, please," he said pleasantly, and Jo watched with surprise as he activated a contraption at the back of the room, where two bikes rose slowly on a platform through a hole in the floor. Zoe grinned at her.

"Isn't this place fantastic?" She asked. An older man, hair shot through with gray - Paul, she assumed - appeared on the other side of the room.

"Did you get her ticket, Arnie?" He asked the first man, but Zoe stepped forward, proffering the receipt in her hand before he could answer. He gave her a fatherly smile.

"I'll be right back with it," he promised, and disappeared to the other end of the room. Arnie leaned against the glass counter, taking a bite of his stir fry and studying Jo.

"So, who's this?" He asked Zoe, who gestured at Jo proudly.

"This is Jo," she told him, "she's visiting from home. She was in the Army too," she added proudly. Arnie gave her the look-over.

"What division?" He asked casually, but there was something she disliked in his eyes.

"Rangers," she said, stiffly. His eyebrows rose infinitesimally.

"Not anymore, though," he said pointedly, eyes fixed on her baby bump. Jo squared her shoulders.

"Not for a while, no," she said shortly. There was something disconcerting about being outside of Eureka. At home, all this was taken for granted, was just part of the past. There was no way to explain her current job description to an outsider, not really.

Fortunately, she didn't have to, as Paul took that moment to call Arnie back to the bicycle lift. Zoe's bicycle appeared only minutes before the older man reappeared. He had just stepped behind the cash register when Jo's phone rang. She fished it out of her pocket, glancing at them apologetically, but froze when she saw the name on the caller ID. _Carter._ She picked up immediately.

"Carter?" She asked, trying not to sound overly worried. Perhaps he just wanted to check in with her and Zoe.

"Jo," he said. His voice was low and urgent, and this was clearly, unavoidably, bad news. "There's been... Zane is in bad shape. You need to come back. Now." The other occupants of the room watched as Jo's face went white. "Fargo is sending one of GD's private planes. It should be ready for you and Zoe in seven hours." Jo's eyes darted to Zoe, who was watching her from the cash register.

"I'll be ready," she said, stunned. She could hear Carter hesitating over the phone, like he wanted to say something comforting, but he didn't. That alone frightened her more than anything he'd actually said so far.

"I'll see you soon," he said, and hung up. Jo pulled the phone away from her face slowly, in shock. Zoe and the older man whose name seemed entirely unimportant to her right now stared at her.

"Are you alright?" Zoe asked. Jo shook her head absently. Zoe exchanged a glance with Paul.

"You should sit down," he said firmly. Jo clutched at the phone. _Zane._ She hadn't even realized she'd said it out loud until Zoe was in front of her, pulling the cell phone out of her grasp and guiding her into the chair that Paul had just pulled over to her.

"We have to go," she said suddenly. Zoe shook her head, eyes worried.

"Jo, I really think you should just sit down for a while..." she protested.

"No, Zoe, your dad called, we have to go, he wouldn't tell me what's wrong but they're sending a plane..." she could see the two men from the bike shop watching them curiously, but she didn't care, what did it matter, really. All that mattered was getting to that plane. Zoe was starting to realize how serious this was. She swirled her head to look at the two men behind her.

"I'm sorry, we have to go, something happened at home... family crisis," she babbled. "Thank for the bike..." Paul held up a hand, stopping her short.

"I'll drive you home," he told her. "The car is faster, and your friend here isn't in any shape to take the T. Your bike will fit in the trunk." Zoe glanced at Jo, then back at the bike shop owner, and began to nod so rapidly, she could be a bobble-head doll.

"Thank you," she said, and tugged on Jo's arm. "Jo, come on, we're going to go right now," Jo let Zoe lead her away, her mind still spinning. What on Earth had happened back at GD?

* * *

Jo barely slept on the trip home, though it was an overnight flight. Instead she stared blindly out the window and into the dark, her fingers twisting through the chain around her neck that still held the engagement ring. Zoe was curled in a ball beside her, fast asleep in one of the private jet's reclining seats. When they finally arrived at GD, Jo was exhausted, virtually dead on her feet, but she didn't break her stride for a minute when Carter met them at the landing strip behind GD. He looked about as good as Jo felt.

"Allison says he stabilized about three hours ago." He said hurriedly. "Jo... maybe you should get some sleep first." Carter said. He seemed worried. Jo didn't care.

"You should have been watching him," Jo snarled as she shoved past him, towards the back entrance. Carter couldn't have looked more stricken if he'd been slapped. His face fell, and Zoe, who'd seen the whole thing from the stairs out of the plane, bit her lip as they both watched Jo storm away like the force of nature she was.

"She didn't mean it, Dad. She's just upset. You - you should've seen her face when you called." She told him. Her father's eyes trailed Jo to the door before he turned to face his daughter.

"Thanks, Zo. It's good to have you home." He wrapped an arm over her shoulders and they began walking. She leaned her head against him and yawned.

"What happened?" She asked. Jack hesitated, which Zoe noticed, tired though she was.

"His experiment went badly wrong," Jack said finally, though by now he and the others knew it was a lot more than that. Zoe caught the reluctance in his tone.

"Does this have something to do with whatever it is you're all not telling me?" She asked, her voice plaintive.

"...I don't know," he answered, less surprised by the question than he supposed he should be. "We think it might." Zoe was silent for a moment.

"Jo knew something was wrong." She said eventually. Jack flinched.

"I know." He admitted. "I promised I'd keep an eye on him for her." He sighed. "No wonder she's angry." Zoe squeezed him around the waist silently and then cast her mind about for a way to change the subject.

"So how are things with you and Allison?" She asked as he opened the door. Jack smiled, recognizing her attempt at distracting him, and latched onto the question gratefully.

* * *

Jo reached the infirmary in record time, where an unkempt Allison was staring intently at a computer's monitor. She looked up as Jo entered the room.

"Jo!" She said, jumping out of her chair. "Where's Jack?" She asked, noticing Carter's absence. Jo ignored her question, more intent on her own.

"Where is he?" Jo demanded, her eyes darting around the room, but not really taking anything in.

"Jo, maybe you should sit down..." Allison suggested.

"I'm fine!" Jo whipped around to snap at her. "Where is Zane?" Allison gestured at the screened off portion of the room that Jo had missed in her haste.

"He's over there. But, Jo," Allison tried and failed once more to get the other woman's attention. Jo was past the curtain in an instant.

Zane lay on the bed, still and pale. He was hooked to an IV, and the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor represented his pulse. Jo froze.

"He's in a coma, Jo." Allison said quietly. Jo stepped back, her hand flying of its own accord to the ring around her neck, her chest constricting. Allison, recognizing her distress, pulled over the nearest chair.

"Here," Allison said simply. Jo sat down, looking shell-shocked, and Allison pulled up a second chair for herself.

"What happened?" Jo asked, looking up at Allison, who hesitated for a moment.

"We're not... we're not sure yet. Jack found him like this in Grace's lab. Grace thinks he made some kind of alteration to her PTSD device." Allison took a deep breath. "He overdosed, Jo." Jo stared at Allison, disbelieving.

"You _know_ he doesn't use," Jo reminded her. "Not anything." Allison licked her lips nervously.

"There are studies," she said slowly, "that link LSD to the Akashic field." Jo stared at her.

"As in, the Artifact?" She clarified. Allison nodded reluctantly. "The one that killed those people, and nearly - " Jo broke herself off, remembering that the infirmary was monitored, and that Kevin would never have been linked to the Artifact in this timeline.

"We've initiated sonic protocols," Allison assured her. "And yes, we believed the Artifact was linked to the Akashic field - which is supposed to be a source of universal knowledge." Allison paused to let her words sink in. "Jo, we think he was trying to get his memories back from the old timeline." Jo froze.

"Could that even work?" She asked, her voice trembling. She wasn't certain she really wanted to know the answer. Allison threw her hands up in the air.

"It's completely theoretical!" She exclaimed. "It would be incredibly dangerous to attempt, especially knowing what we do about the way the others connected to the field died." Jo looked back at Zane where he lay motionless. It was exactly the kind of arrogant thing he'd think he could get away with, when no one else could. She reached out to wrap his hand in hers where it rested on the sheets.

"You should get some sleep," Allison said softly. Jo didn't look at her, her eyes fixed on the sharp contrast between Zane's shock of black hair against the crisp white sheets.

"Make me a bed," she said, stroking the back of his hand with her thumb.

"Jo - "

"I'm not going anywhere, Allison." Jo said flatly. Behind her, she could hear Allison's sigh and the creak of the chair as the other woman stood. Allison walked away, heels clicking against the floor, but returned quickly, though there was no bed in sight when Jo spared her a quick glance. Allison reached out to Jo, handing her an envelope.

"We found this next to him," she told her, before walking away again. Jo shifted her eyes to the bulky envelope and was faintly surprised to see her name written in Zane's untidy scrawl. She bit her lip, glancing at him, and pulled her hand from his to open the envelope.

Inside, she found a smaller envelope labeled 'Baby Lupo-Donovan', and she gave a half-laugh, half-sob, wishing she could tell him that she would've taken his name in the end. She fingered the smaller envelope, wondering what was inside, before pinching her lips together tightly and setting it aside. Hopefully no-one would ever need to know. Eyes feeling suspiciously moist, she pulled out the other bundle of papers in the envelope and unfolded them carefully.

_Jo-Jo,_

_If you're reading this, then you are almost certainly aware that I have screwed up. (Unless you've been poking around in my things, but you wouldn't do that to me, now would you Jo-Jo?) This isn't what was supposed to happen, you see. I was supposed to regain my memories, marry you, and add a few more Lupo-Donovans to the mix (how does four sound, bobcat?), each one with their mother's sass and looks, and hopefully not their father's penchant for trouble. But here's the thing, Jo, and deep down we both know it's true: without those memories, I'm not the man you fell in love with. Oh, you can argue semantics if you want, but in the ways that count I will fall short. You deserve more - you need more, even. You and that baby. And because I've already slipped once, I'll admit it: I already love you. I've been loving you both since the day you woke me up with what was, even in Eureka, the most surreal moment of my life. If it weren't for that, maybe I could let it go on like this indefinitely. But, Jo, you deserve to be happy, and this is the only way I knew to ensure that._

_But, as I said... if you're reading this, then I've failed in that as well. And for that I am truly sorry. I never meant to leave the two of you alone. I hope one day, you can forgive me._

_Always, _

_Zane_

Jo pressed her lips together tightly, making them a thin line of tension. A lone tear ran down one of her cheeks, fighting her efforts for self-control. She brushed it away impatiently and carefully refolded the papers and small envelope, returning them to the larger envelope. Her hands were shaking, and she realized that sometime in the last ten minutes, Allison had brought over a bed and closed the curtains around them. Jo was completely and utterly alone.

That was when she felt it: a soft fluttering in her stomach. Jo froze, not daring to breathe, almost forgetting everything around her. Then she felt it again. Jo breathed out slowly, sliding a cautious hand onto the expanse of her stomach. Not so alone, after all. She stood up, hand still curved around her stomach, and crawled onto the cot Allison had provided for her, suddenly aware how tired she truly was. She curled up, eyes still fixed on Zane, but rubbed her stomach comfortingly.

"We'll make it through this, little one," she whispered into the silence of the infirmary, and was surprised how natural it felt. For the first time since the stick had turned pink, this baby felt very, very real. She just wished she could share the feeling with Zane.

* * *

Disclaimer: Don't own Eureka.

A/N: I kind of agonized over this chapter before publishing it (it's so short compared to the last few chapters! What gives, Muse?), but I do think I said everything I meant to say. Hence its appearance. Also - that bike shop in Boston does exist, and if you're familiar with it, please god do not tell Arnie he got a cameo. I would never hear the end of it. Ever. Anyways - as you may have noticed - writing is moving fast for me lately, so hopefully you'll see another chapter reasonably soon.

ADM


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: A quick note regarding the subject matter that follows: I know nothing about PTSD, aside from what I gleaned from the internet. I don't think I've done anything terribly offensive with it whilst linking it to the plot, but I did want to offer my respects to those reading who might know someone who suffers from it or knows someone suffering from it, be it service-related or otherwise. Also included in this chapter in an offhand way is a reference to death, dying and the possibility of an afterlife, which I feel I need to say right off the bat is a purely character and plot based commentary, nothing more and nothing less. My opinions are irrelevant to the events which take place.

That said, enjoy!

Everything Is Illuminated

The days following Zane's hospitalization were marked with chaos at Global Dynamics. Fargo and Grace were struggling to alleviate the damage Zane's actions had done to the relationship between Global Dynamics and the Department of Defense. They had finally convinced General Mansfield that, given Zane's condition, there was little to no practical value in him making the flight to Eureka when, after all, the damage was already done to Grace's project. In the end, Grace had taken the fall for the incident, had played it off as a malfunction of the PTSD device during an approved test run. She would have done it for the sake of her friends either way, but all the more so because the small group of time travelers had quickly concluded that the last thing they needed was to draw scrutiny to the shaky ground on which the relationship between Jo and Zane had made its foundation, and by doing so reveal their trip to 1947. It had been scarcely an hour since the last urgent call before a new call came in to Grace's office, where she was slumped, defeated, in her computer chair. She tossed a frustrated glance at the phone, sighed, and picked it up.

"Dr. Monroe speaking," she said, clicking absentmindedly through the data displayed on her computer screen. At least she'd gleaned some interesting data from this fiasco.

"Dr. Monroe, we have a flight that's just arrived with a man who claims he was selected to participate in your PTSD trial," said the security team member on the other end of the line. Grace frowned, further dismayed by the news.

"But nobody was meant to arrive for at least two more weeks, and we've cancelled the study!" she protested.

"We're going to need you to come down and speak with this man, ma'am." He responded, not without sympathy for her plight. By now the entirety of Jo's security force was aware of the situation that had their boss virtually glued to the infirmary, though Carter had handled the bulk of the initial investigation alone in Jo's absence.

"I'll be down there in fifteen," Grace assured him, massaging her temple with one hand. She hung up the phone, took one last glance at the surviving data from the headset Zane had all but destroyed with his foolhardy scheme, and shifted herself from her chair, shut down the computer monitor and headed for the door to her lab, steeling herself to deal with the latest crisis.

* * *

Grace arrived at GD's private landing strips well within fifteen minutes, in a hurry to get the latest situation resolved. She stepped outside, squinting – it was dark already, the days at their very shortest as the winter solstice had only just passed, and the contrast between the bright stadium lights illuminating the helicopter pad and the dark night sky was jarring. Two men stood by a small government plane, one in a dark suit with a GD insignia – no doubt the security team member who'd called her in. The other was wearing a button down shirt and slacks, with a dark jacket over one arm. The security personnel member hastened to Grace's side, the other man remaining where he stood, shifting lightly on his feet with his hands clasped in front of him. His stance was calm and professional, but the underlying tension in his frame suggested he was poised for action. It was something Grace was used to seeing in the military professionals she met in her line of research, but something about him seemed particularly familiar.

She turned her attention to the man who'd just stopped in front of her, wishing not for the first time that she knew the names of Jo's security team.

"Dr. Monroe," he said, with no preamble. "I've been called to another location. Will you be alright here?" Grace smiled encouragingly.

"I'll be just fine, thank you," she assured him. He nodded gratefully, then, a strange expression on his face, looked back where the other man stood. Grace's patient was looking away from them, studying the building curiously. The man with Grace cleared his throat then paused, clearly second guessing whatever it was he'd meant to say. A moment passed, and he nodded at her in awkward acknowledgement, adding "Dr. Monroe," before turning to walk away.

Grace let him go, certain that whatever it was he'd considered telling her would come out – this was Eureka, after all. Instead she chose to cross the tarmac, approach the young man waiting patiently, and introduce herself.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Grace Monroe, and I understand you were called in to participate in my trials," she started engagingly, though she felt her heart twist in her chest at the mention of her now infinitely postponed trials. The young man looked down at her, smiling broadly, and Grace was immediately struck by the familiarity of his olive green eyes. Where on earth could she have seen this man before?

"It's good to meet you, Grace, I'm Daniel Lupo." At that, a sinking feeling began to form in the pit of her stomach, as did the conviction that neither his name nor his unexpected arrival was coincidence. Over the past two days it had become increasingly apparent that Zane's action had not been based on a simple whim or desperation but had been precisely weighed, calculated, and planned with an eye for the possible consequences. His quiet transfer of medical power of attorney and next of kin to Jo had only been one of a series of moves he'd made in the weeks leading up to his attempt to regain his memories. At first they'd tried to avoid telling Jo, not wanting to stress her or the baby unduly, but the moment Jo had realized she'd been given power of attorney over him, it had only been a matter of time before she discovered the degree of planning he'd engaged in since their argument over Thanksgiving. Then… then Jo had just shut down, more so than any of them had ever seen before. She stayed at Zane's bedside, night and day. She ate what her worried friends brought her, no more and no less; responded to their questions and quietly accepted their attentions. But the spark was gone from her eyes and they all knew it. Whatever Zane had intended or expected, Grace was sure he had badly miscalculated the effect it would have on Jo. But this – if this was what she thought it was, it suggested a level of planning none of them had anticipated.

Grace eyed the young man before her, trying to gauge what he knew. She decided to cut to the chase.

"Do you have a sister?" She asked him, trying but failing to sound casual. He looked at her, clearly confused.

"Yes, an older sister, Jo – she's out in Oregon somewhere, heading up security for some private corporation." He paused. "Look, they didn't tell me anything before they stuck me on that plane, and that's fine – orders are orders, after all – but is there anywhere a guy could catch some sleep?" He asked hopefully. "It was a long flight in from New York."

Grace looked at him askance, opened her mouth and then closed it again, shaking her head.

"Follow me," she said finally, gesturing towards the entrance to the building. They neared the door, Grace unlocking it with her keycard, and he reached in to pull the door open before she had a chance, gesturing for her to step ahead of him. She smiled at him warmly, feeling slightly more at ease. Perhaps Zane had been right about this one – surely the presence of Jo's brother could only help pull her away from rock bottom?

"So, you don't even know where you are?" She asked him, hoping to clarify his earlier statement. He flashed a smile at her.

"Not in the least," he replied. "The United States Army calls – or mails, as was the case – and you answer. As always, I am at their disposal." The mail system. Not obviously electronic, but Grace could easily imagine how Zane would've done it. A tweak to a server here, a nudge to a database there… and an automatic message could be generated that no one would question, except perhaps the Department of Defense if they looked too closely. Grace restrained a sigh, not wanting to alert Daniel to her change in mood. Still… one more thing Zane was going to force them to clean up. Daniel's tone grew more serious. "Even without their encouragement, I would've been interested in joining your trials. I've been sidelined in New York for the last two months, in a VA hospital." He gestured at his leg. "The flesh is doing better, but if the doctors are to be believed, the mind could still use some work," he added dryly, though there was an underlying tone of resentment. Grace winced, not eager for the moment she was forced to explain the trials' postponement to Jo's brother, who was clearly a legitimate choice for her program. _Well,_ she thought with a little dry humor of her own, _we're already half way to the infirmary._ _The least Jo can do is explain how he really got here – and why using the PTSD device is currently quite out of the question._

Grace took a deep breath.

"Well, then. Welcome to Eureka, Oregon, the town with the most PhDs per capita in North America; and, as the home of Global Dynamics, one of the foremost research facilities in the world, incredibly top secret to boot." She paused as the elevator doors opened into the hallway outside the infirmary. "It's also, if I'm not mistaken, your sister's current place of residence." Daniel Lupo's head virtually whipped around from where he'd been eying a nearby access keypad.

"_What?_" He looked stunned, as if he thought he must have heard her incorrectly. Of course, he hadn't. Grace studied the section of wall just behind him, nervous about the information she was about to give him.

"Assuming your sister is, in fact, Josefina Lupo, Chief of Security for Global Dynamics." She added quickly. He worked his jaw with silent emotion for a moment or two, then looked her in the eye.

"Never mind sleeping, Dr. Monroe. I'd like to see my sister, if you could just point me in the right direction." Grace nodded in the direction of the infirmary's entrance.

"I thought you might feel that way," she admitted. He frowned as he noted the sign outside the door.

"The infirmary? Is she alright?" He demanded, whirling around to face Grace. She winced internally.

"She's… not hurt." She hedged, eying the infirmary door with trepidation. "She might be asleep, though." She added hastily as he prepared to storm inside. "Give me a moment; I'll let her know you're here." He looked confused, not understanding why she might need advance warning, but Grace had already vanished through the doorway before he had the chance to ask.

* * *

When Grace reappeared through the doorway of the infirmary that evening, it was the first that Jo had seen her in two days, and Jo found herself at a loss as to what she ought to say. 'Sorry about my boyfriend premeditatedly gaining your trust and using your experiment on a near-suicide mission to retrieve missing memories of our life together from the aether'?This was not the kind of apology a normal person generally had to make. Jo wasn't even sure this was something you _could_ apologize for, so when Grace cut her off before she could get the words out, she was pathetically grateful.

"Jo, there's something you should know – " but Jo never got the chance to process the rest of Grace's words, because at that moment her younger brother followed Grace through the doorway. It was hard to say who was most surprised in that moment: Jo, who wasn't convinced she'd ever manage to get her family to visit her in Eureka; or Daniel, who, though he hadn't exactly been expecting to see his sister anytime soon, had certainly not expected to see her with a clearly defined baby bump for an accessory. Grace was just relieved to see an expression other than despair or numbness written on Jo's face.

"_Daniel?_" Jo squeaked uncharacteristically, shooting out of her chair with surprise. "What are you doing here?" He tore his eyes away from her stomach momentarily to gather his thoughts and answer her question.

"I could ask you the same, big sis," he replied, looking around the room and grinning. "Nice digs. I guess there were a few details you left out when you told us about your new job, huh?" Jo gave him a sheepish look.

"Your clearance wasn't high enough," she confessed, then narrowed her eyes. "At least, I didn't think it was." He gave her a wry smile.

"Still isn't," he admitted. "I had to fill out the most elaborate confidentiality form I think I've ever seen just to get here. And they never even told me where 'here' was, though now I think I can guess." Jo tilted her head thoughtfully, catching undertones to his statement. The shock was beginning to wear off, questions arising in its place.

"Not that I'm not thrilled to see you, Danny, but why would you end up in Eureka if you didn't even know I was here? Last I heard, you were in the middle of a tour in Iraq." Daniel hesitated, and Jo narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't you even _think_ of lying to me." She demanded. He sighed.

"I've been back in the states for a few months now." He admitted, opening his mouth to explain, but Jo cut him off.

"You've been in the states for _months_ without telling us?" She burst out, unable to stop herself.

"Said the pot to the kettle!" He snapped back at her. "Or did you really think I hadn't noticed that you're _pregnant_?" He added pointedly. Jo went pink with embarrassment.

"I was going to tell you soon," she grumbled defensively. Daniel gave her an incredulous look.

"With what, a _birth_ announcement?" He asked, sarcastic. Brother and sister stood facing each other, locked into a heated staring contest which wasn't broken until Zoe came flying through the door from the elevator.

"Jo! I brought you dinner - " Zoe's rapid entrance came to an abrupt stop as she collided with Daniel at the door, the air knocked forcefully out of her lungs when she impacted his muscular back. His left leg crumpled beneath him and they landed in a tangle of limbs on the infirmary floor. Zoe, who Jo had long believed had incredible lung capacity (she'd often wondered how the younger woman found time to breathe between words) recovered quickly from having the air knocked out of her.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" She apologized. "I didn't expect anyone else to be here – " Daniel began trying to pry himself off the floor slowly, his motion catching Zoe's attention. " – here, let me help you." She insisted, but he shook her off his arm impatiently. Jo caught the gesture and frowned, but Zoe wasn't one to be put off, and she supported him when he struggled to put his weight on his left leg. Finally they were both off the ground, and Zoe took the moment to turn her attention to Jo.

"Oh! Jo, your dinner – " she realized belatedly that her offerings were nowhere to be seen and twisted around trying to find them. The rumpled paper bag lay on the floor, a dark stain beginning to spread from the bottom. Zoe grabbed it, scowling, and opened it to peer inside. She groaned and pulled out a crushed-looking container which dripped broth onto her fingers. Zoe hissed in pain and stuck a finger into her mouth quickly, sucking off the hot liquid. A soggy looking piece of baguette followed.

"There goes dinner," she said, voice dejected.

"It's fine, Zoe, I wasn't very hungry anyways." Zoe frowned.

"You need to eat, Jo. It's not good for you or the baby to go without food. Zane would want you to take care of yourself," she added hesitantly.

"I'm fine, Zo, and so's the baby," Jo assured her. "As for Zane – "

"Is this Zane guy the father?" Daniel demanded impatiently. Jo was about to snarl a response when Zoe cut her off.

"Uh, _yeah_ he's the father. The whole town's been talking about it for _weeks_." She said, giving him a weird look. Then, as she got a better look at his face, she paused. "Wait, are you even from around here? You look really familiar but I don't think I've ever seen you in Eureka before." Jo barked a snappish laugh, laden with overtones of her irritation with her bullheaded sibling.

"Zoe, this is my youngest brother, Daniel. _Who_," she emphasized, "was just on his way out." The two siblings locked eyes, Daniel crossing his arms over his chest in a move eerily reminiscent of his sister.

"That Monroe woman said there was some sort of mix-up. I don't have anywhere to go." He said pointedly.

"Then I'll find somewhere for you to go." Jo said firmly.

"Great, you can tell me all about this Zane on the way." Jo flinched almost imperceptibly, her eyes flickering to the bed where Zane lay, unnaturally still. Zoe, catching her glance, intervened.

"He can stay with us!" She blurted out, causing both siblings to fix their attention on her, Jo's eyes surprised and her brother's annoyed. "Dad should be on his way by to see you soon, Jo, you can just tell him then, and I'll take Daniel – do you prefer Daniel or Dan? Danny? – back to S.A.R.A.H. now." Zoe said, babbling a little. Jo's lips almost twitched into a smile of amusement when she imagined Carter's reaction.

"That would be great, Zoe. I'm sure Daniel would _really_ appreciate it." Jo said, voice as syrupy-sweet as she could muster. Daniel's eyes remained narrowed at Zoe.

"Yes, thank you – Zoe, is it?" He said, his tone none-too-pleased and his gaze sharp. Zoe quailed momentarily under his gaze, but set her shoulders back and her chin up after a moment. She was a Carter, damn it, and she didn't intimidate easy. She smirked back at him unrepentantly.

"Why, you are _ever_ so welcome, Daniel," she said, in the fakest tone of enthusiasm she could muster. The effect was not lost on him, and Jo could see the stiffness of his shoulders as he followed Zoe out of the infirmary. He glanced back to her just before he passed through the door and their eyes locked before he disappeared. Jo exhaled slowly, sinking back onto her chair by Zane's bed. She studied the familiar contours of Zane's face.

"What _have_ you been up to?" she murmured, half to him, half to herself, and shook her head. No doubt she would find out soon enough.

* * *

Much later that night, Zoe was deep asleep in her bedroom when S.A.R.A.H.'s voice woke her abruptly.

"Zoe, I am sensing high levels of adrenaline and an elevated heart rate in your guest's room. I attempted to wake him, but he remained unresponsive, and without a more corporeal form – " Zoe groaned and turned over.

"S.A.R.A.H, we're seriously not having this conversation at – " she glanced at her clock " – three am." She screwed her eyes back shut.

"It is considered polite to see to the comfort of your guests," S.A.R.A.H. informed her cheerfully but pointedly.

"Ugh, he's probably just feeling remorse for being such an _ass_ earlier tonight," Zoe argued, pulling a sheet over her head. S.A.R.A.H. responded by turning on the lights. Zoe jumped, startled.

"_Seriously?_ Fine!" She slid out of bed reluctantly and padded to the door of her room. "For the love of God, S.A.R.A.H, you're blinding me here. Will you at least turn the lights back down now?" The smart house dimmed the lights accordingly as Zoe stepped into the hallway.

Down the hall, S.A.R.A.H. slid open the door to Daniel's room, allowing Zoe to peer in. Most of the sheets had been kicked off the bed, but one remained tangled around Daniel, damp with the thin layer of sweat which coated his body. Zoe approached the bed nervously and leaned over to shake him gently by the shoulder. For a moment, she waited, holding her breath, but he didn't so much as twitch.

Zoe was tempted to leave it at that and go back to bed, dismissing S.A.R.A.H.'s concerns, but he jerked forcefully in his sleep, making her jump in surprise. His face was tense, his hands twisted so hard in the sheets that Zoe thought she might've heard them tear. Genuinely concerned now, Zoe reached out to shake him harder this time.

"Daniel?" She called hesitantly, feeling all the discomfort of the situation, then again with a little more confidence. "Daniel?" Zoe had just enough time to register the moment his eyes snapped open, his whole body suddenly wide awake and thrumming with tension, before an arm whipped out to hit her in the solar plexus and she was on the floor gasping for breath for the second time that day. Daniel vaulted himself off the bed after her with alarm the moment he realized what he'd done, forgetting to use caution with his still weak left leg. His leg crumpled beneath him and in short order they were both on the floor.

"What the hell were you doing?" He demanded, face clenched with pain. Zoe reared her head back, shocked by his hostility.

"Trying to help _you_, though I'm starting to see now that it was a mistake!" She shot back at him, rubbing the tender spot on her torso, which she was sure would be bruised in the morning. He stopped short, not expecting her vehement response. Zoe took one look at his expression of perplexity and his rumpled appearance – and she just couldn't help it. The giggles bubbled up inside her, increasing in strength though she tried to hold them in, until she began shaking with suppressed laughter. Daniel stared at her, his face only growing more perplexed.

"Are you… okay?" He asked, staring at her. She took one more look at his face and her silent giggles became much louder ones.

"You – " she gasped, " – you just – " she shook her head, unable to explain. She tried to reign in the giggles, taking a deep breath.

"I think we're even now," she finally managed, wiping a tear of mirth from her cheek. He raised a quizzical eyebrow, not getting her meaning. The striking resemblance to his sister almost sent her into a fresh round of giggles, but she managed to hold it together.

Once Zoe finally felt the urge to laugh finally pass, she gave Daniel an assessing look. He was lounging against the frame of the bed, a pensive expression on his face. Zoe tilted her head thoughtfully.

"You want some tea?" She asked.

"Tea?" He blinked at her, looking startled. She rolled her eyes.

"You know, warm beverage? Sometimes people drink it?" He gave her an exasperated look.

"I'm familiar with the concept," he said dryly. "Don't you want to go back to sleep?" Zoe grinned at him.

"I keep weird hours," she said, sounding nonchalant. "I'm a college student, that's what we do. And you don't look interested in going back to sleep anytime soon." Daniel gave her a shrug in acknowledgment of his reluctance to return to sleep, though he declined to elaborate.

"Tea it is, then," Zoe resolved, pulling herself up from the floor. She headed for the door, pausing in the doorway to look back at him, one eyebrow arched high.

"Well?" She asked. "Are you coming, or not?" She flashed a mischievous grin at him then disappeared into the hallway. Daniel watched her go and half-shook his head in disbelief. Crazy. He'd only been here for a day and it was clear that this whole town was nuts. If Jo's recent behavior was anything to judge by, it was catching: he'd never seen quite this level of crazy out of his sister before.

He followed the younger girl down the stairs and into the kitchen, taking a seat at the countertop and jumping slightly when the house spoke.

"What variety of tea would you prefer, Mr. Lupo?" S.A.R.A.H. inquired smoothly. He threw Zoe a glance.

"I'll never get used to that," he grumbled. Zoe smirked.

"She grows on you, really," she tossed back at him.

"Ah – something simple, sweet," he answered the house uncomfortably. "Peppermint?" He suggested.

"Coming right up," S.A.R.A.H. chirped. "Zoe, would you like me to prepare your usual?"

"Yes, please, S.A.R.A.H." Zoe said, sliding onto the stool opposite Daniel. They sat in silence for a while, until Zoe moved to retrieve the two mugs where they'd appeared, steaming, on the counter. She handed the peppermint tea to Daniel wordlessly and returned to her seat.

"So that guy who was out cold in the hospital bed – that's the baby's father?" Daniel asked finally. Zoe placed her cup of tea on the table, cradling it between her hands and leaning in to blow softly at the steaming surface.

"Yeah, that's Zane. I guess I should be surprised that she hasn't told you anything, but I'm really not. They've been playing things pretty close to the chest." Zoe's voice lowered. "At least part of that is my fault," she murmured to herself, forgetting momentarily that she had an audience. Daniel gave her a puzzled look.

"How is any of that your fault?" He asked, perplexed. Zoe looked up and gave him an exhausted-looking smile.

"This past summer I pretty much had my sights set on Zane," Zoe admitted. "Nobody knew they were dating yet, and I was putting off telling anyone I was interested – Zane has a bit of a – well, a reputation, honestly, and I wasn't looking forward to the argument with my Dad. When I finally did, well, I stepped right into the middle of things without even knowing it. And _nobody_ told me what was going on," she added, raising her chin a little in defiance, still a little prickled by the thought.

"I guess I was already back at school when she found out about the baby," Zoe continued. "At least, she says that's why she waited so long to tell me. But I found out about her and Zane secondhand when the news broke around town." Zoe bit her lip. "I was mortified," she admitted. "And furious. But the more I think about it, the more I realize it was wounded pride more than anything else. Seeing Zane and Jo together – well, it's kind of obvious now that I only thought I knew him."

Daniel cocked his head, puzzled, in a gesture Zoe found rather reminiscent of his sister.

"How so?" He asked. "Haven't you all known this guy for a few years? I could swear I've heard his name before." Zoe almost snickered out loud. If Jo's old rants about Zane were any indication, she imagined Jo's brother had heard an earful. Still, she restrained herself. That was an explanation best left to Jo. Zoe still wasn't even sure she could account for the sea change that Jo's relationship with Zane had undergone. She turned her attention back to Daniel, spinning her now-empty cup of tea with one finger.

"If you had asked me about him a few months ago," Zoe said slowly, "I would have said Zane was daring. Fearless. He's brilliant, no doubt about it, but a little bit reckless too. You always got the feeling that he was unstoppable, untouchable, no matter what he was going to pull next." Zoe paused, letting the mug hit the table with a _clunk_.

"It's not so much that Jo's changed him, I don't think," she said thoughtfully. "He's still Zane in all the ways that really matter. But I think Jo brings out things he kept hidden before." Zoe looked at Daniel. "I've never really seen him scared before," she added, conversationally. "At least, not until a few weeks ago. Then I saw him outright terrified." Zoe shrugged. "I guess now he's got something to lose."

She fell silent, fiddling absently with the mug in her hand while Daniel finished the last of his tea.

"We should get back to bed," she said finally. He gestured toward the stairs.

"Go ahead," he said. "I don't want to keep you awake. I'll be up in a while." Zoe smiled at him, depositing her mug into the sink.

"Good night," she said warmly, before disappearing up the stairs. Daniel didn't reply, staring quietly into space as he toyed with his own mug. It was a long time before he returned upstairs.

* * *

Zoe reluctantly agreed to bring Daniel back to GD with her the next morning, admitting to herself that she couldn't reasonably prevent him from seeing his sister, even if she did think Jo could do without the added stress.

That said, she hardly needed to rush.

Daniel shot her an impatient look.

"Are we going to see my sister sometime this century?" He demanded as they pulled into the parking lot behind Cafe Diem. Zoe matched him, snark for snark.

"Your sister," Zoe said as she maneuvered the car into a parking space, "needs her breakfast." He'd been pleasant enough when she'd spoken to him last night, but this morning he'd been as irritable as he was when he arrived. He frowned but said nothing, a hint of concern in his eyes.

Zoe led him into Cafe Diem, where she stopped at the counter to wait for Vincent patiently. She was rewarded with a bright smile.

"Zoe! Breakfast for two?" He asked, knowing she'd been working to ensure Jo had enough to eat.

"Three, actually," she said, nodding to indicate Daniel. Vincent's eyes widened when he caught sight of him.

"Oh!" He looked him up and down. "And who might this delightful specimen of manhood be?" He asked Zoe suggestively. She blushed, resisting the urge to glance back at Daniel.

"It's not like that, Vincent," she told him hurriedly. "This is Jo's younger brother." The grin was wiped off Vincent's face, to be replaced by a solemn look. Daniel, who'd been studying Vincent skeptically, reached out his hand.

"Daniel Lupo," he introduced himself. Vincent shook now outstretched hand vigorously.

"So glad to meet someone from Jo's family," he assured Daniel, who gave the chef a curious look. "I'm so sorry for your - " he cut himself off when Zoe have him a sharp look, and pursed his lips tightly. Daniel looked at him, puzzled. "What would you like for breakfast?" Vincent asked him instead.

"Well, a coffee would be great," Daniel responded. "And - would you happen to serve breakfast sandwiches?" Vincent gave him a pleased smile.

"We serve _everything_," he assured him. "And may I just say it's nice to see a customer with an appetite? Jo insists on being so healthy," Vincent shook his head, then added hastily, "Of course, with the baby and all, that's only right, but it seems like just such a tragedy." His eyes widened as he processed his choice of word too late. "A pity, I mean," he amended, then cleared his throat. "Ah - so what would you like on your breakfast sandwich?" He asked.

They made their order, and Zoe steered Daniel to a table away from the bar and Vincent's curious ears. He leaned in toward Zoe.

"So this Vincent guy certainly seems interested in Jo," he said in an undertone. Zoe shot him a surprised look.

"Well yeah, the whole town has been worrying about her - and Zane," she responded. Daniel looked unsettled.

"It's not like her to..." he hesitated. Zoe watched him curiously.

"Get involved?" She suggested. He blinked at her, nonplussed.

"Yeah," he said slowly. "It's not like her to get so involved." Zoe gave him an arch look.

"Had you ever stopped to consider maybe that was exactly what she needed?" She asked. Daniel watched her closely.

"I have," he said simply. "But there's a vast difference between what's good for you and what you actually do." He leaned back in his chair, studying Zoe, who shrugged.

"I'm not saying she's an easy person to get to know," Zoe said, "but people around here tend not to see the world in terms of easy and hard so much as probabilities." She gave him a sudden, amused smile, her olive eyes flashing with mischief. "Though I don't think there was anything that could have prepared them for Zane and Jo ending up together. They have a bit of a blind spot when it comes to the human element." She looked up and smiled sweetly as Vincent brought over their food.

"Thank you, Vincent," she said, eying her waffles appreciatively. Vincent remained, hovering over the table as Daniel took a bite of his breakfast sandwich.

"Do you like it?" He asked anxiously. Daniel swallowed and gave him a friendly smile.

"It's perfect, thanks," He said sincerely. Vincent beamed before hustling away to his next table. Daniel looked up to see Zoe watching him, a small smile playing on her lips.

"What?" He asked, eyebrows furrowed. The smile widened into a smirk and Zoe turned her eyes back to her strawberry-festooned waffles.

"Nothing," she said serenely.

* * *

The remainder of the ride to GD passed in relative peace. When Zoe wasn't going out of her way to antagonize him, Daniel seemed to possess that same preternatural calm that his sister so often displayed under stress. They rolled across the hidden bridge, and Zoe was impressed by the way her passenger limited himself to only the smallest of flinches as they drove across the illusory broken bridge. She could still remember the first time she had noticed it, though the first time she'd been at GD she'd already been too freaked out for it to register. It had in fact been several weeks before she had found herself on her way to GD again and had been confronted with the bridge illusion. That was the day that it truly sunk in for her how bizarre her newfound hometown was.

They drove up to the access point, where Zoe flashed the permanent access pass she'd been granted shortly after the space trash incident and patiently endured the still-unnerving retinal scan. She gestured for Daniel to follow suit with his temporary pass and watched with amusement as the retinal scan made him lose his cool and rub at his eyes in alarm. Zoe grinned to herself.

"Most people don't go blind," she informed him conversationally. It was an exaggeration, of course – GD's retinal scanning system hadn't blinded anyone since its prototype phase in the early 90s. It was completely harmless – or at least as harmless as anything in Eureka was. Zoe caught Daniel's scowl from the corner of her eye and grinned. It had been a long time since she'd last been able to get under a Lupo's skin like this. She hadn't even known she missed it. She turned into the visitor parking lot, pulling smoothly into the nearest parking space, and turned to face Daniel as she killed the ignition.

"Come on," she said, and turned back to shove open her door, shivering as they were hit with a blast of cold air. "Jo should be in the infirmary." Her voice was matter of fact, but there was no missing the underlying current of worry. Daniel's irritation melted away, to be replaced by his own concern for his sister, and he turned his attention to the building looming before them. Jo had some serious explaining to do.

* * *

Jo was speaking quietly with Allison, one hand tracing absent circles over her distended belly, when Zoe and her brother appeared in the infirmary doorway. She broke away from Allison with an apologetic smile and set her shoulders as she approached them, steeling herself for a continuation of yesterday's fight.

But Daniel smiled pleasantly enough as she approached, though his eyes flickered to her swollen belly, and Zoe's expression hinted of silent amusement. Jo eyed them cautiously, though she couldn't fathom what might have changed in the few hours since she'd last seen them.

"Brought you breakfast," Zoe chirped, offering Jo a paper bag of food from Cafe Diem.

"...thanks," Jo said, still eying them.

"Aren't you going to take it?" Zoe asked, laughter in her voice. Jo reached for the bag automatically.

"Did you sleep well?" She asked, still trying to pinpoint the source of Daniel's apparent patience. He and Zoe exchanged a glance so swift, Jo might have missed it, had she not been looking for it. She filed it away for later consideration, knowing better than to jeopardize a newfound truce by questioning it.

"Yes," Daniel answered her shortly.

"Of course, I'm back home, aren't I?" Zoe blurted out at the same time, and flushed with embarrassment when she realized that Jo most likely hadn't asked her for that very reason. Jo raised her eyebrows at them, but didn't comment. Instead, she turned her attention back to Daniel.

"I was going to make a run back to my house, if you want to come," she offered. Daniel flashed her a smile.

"Sure," he said. Zoe's eyes lit up.

"I want to see the new house!" She exclaimed. Jo gave them a small smile.

"Well, then," she said, and gestured to the door. "After you."

* * *

The ride to Jo's house was subdued, the passengers of her bright blue Ford each lost in their own thoughts. It was the first time Jo had returned home since she'd left for Boston - the first time she'd really left GD, even - and it felt dishearteningly like a surrender. She bit her lip unconsciously as she turned onto her street.

Daniel sat in the seat next to her, quietly taking stock of his sister. He didn't know much about pregnancy – he was the youngest, and they had, after all, spent their childhood on a smattering of military bases - but it was clear enough that Jo had known she was pregnant for a while now, which begged the question: why the hell hadn't she told them?

Jo pulled into the driveway of her house and stopped the car. She paused in the now-silent car, studying the forest green facade of her new house with its white shutters. From her vantage point in the driveway, Jo could already see the empty table in the breakfast nook that jutted out from her kitchen, where she and Zane had eaten breakfast the morning he had driven her to the airport. Her heart clenched in her chest, and she took a deep breath before opening the door and climbing out of her car.

"Oh, Jo, it's gorgeous!" Zoe enthused. Jo returned Zoe's enthusiasm with a tight-lipped smile, but a smile nonetheless.

"It's actually bigger than it looks," she said, gesturing toward the incline that disappeared around the edge of her garage. "You should see the dojo I set up in the basement." She added, genuinely animated for the first time in days. Zoe wandered over to the edge of the driveway, which was lined with a low stone wall where the ground was raised for a terraced effect. She ran a hand over the stone wall before pulling her hand back from the chilly stone and looking at Jo.

"Do you think you'll plant something here?" Jo smiled.

"Maybe in the spring," she said, before smiling ruefully. "Of course, I guess I'll be busy then." She grazed a hand over the curve of her belly, then inclined her head toward the front door. "Come on, I'll show you inside."

Jo led the way to her front door, climbing the icy stone steps carefully. She paused on the front step to speak the password, making her brother raise his eyebrows.

"I didn't realize house keys had gone out of style," he remarked with amusement. Behind him, Zoe snorted.

"Says the guy who held a conversation with my house this morning. Eureka's not so much like your typical small town." Jo smiled to herself as she pushed open the door and took a deep breath. The smell of home came rushing toward her, equal parts comfort and reminder, and her breath hitched in her chest.

"Jo?" Zoe asked, from where she stood by Daniel. Her forehead was creased with concern. Jo forced a smile.

"I'm fine," she assured her, stepping into the living room and glancing around. The room was dark, shades down: the way it had been when she'd left it the morning of her flight, and Jo felt a twinge of disappointment. With all that had happened in the last few days - the letter, the will, Daniel's arrival - she'd expected something... more. She stifled a sigh as she switched on the light.

"Home sweet home," she murmured, sounding unenthused. Behind her, her guests scrutinized her wordlessly. Jo gestured around the room.

"Make yourself at home," she told them. "I'm going to go pack a few things." Zoe frowned.

"Jo, you're not going to keep staying at the infirmary," Zoe protested, dismayed. Jo scarcely spared her a glance as she turned into her bedroom.

"Yes, I am," she said, in a tone that brooked no argument, vanishing through the doorway. Zoe turned away, resigned, and shrugged at Daniel.

"Let's go," she suggested, and he inclined his head in a silent gesture of acceptance before following her into the hall.

Back in her room, Jo pulled an overnight bag out of her closet and turned to her dresser, rifling through the two drawers she had filled with a selection of maternity clothes. She'd been living out of her suitcase for days now, and had watched as Allison's face became increasingly pinched and Carter's forehead more heavily furrowed by their shared, well-intentioned concern. Jo was sure they knew better than to think she was home for good, as Zoe had, but she had no doubt that they had hoped it was the case.

Jo turned to place another blouse in her bag and paused, a flashing light across the room catching her eye. She placed the blouse carefully into her overnight bag before grabbing the dresser to help her up. The blinking red light originated from the answering machine on her bedside table, and Jo gave it a wary look. The only people she had even the slightest desire to speak to right now were all in Eureka and knew better than to call her home phone. The only people she might expect to find calling her home in the past few days would be her brothers and father, with whom she was not at all prepared to speak, just yet. Excepting, of course, the brother currently hovering in her doorway, who would no doubt be demanding explanations soon enough. She gave him a wry look.

"Are you coming in or are you just going to stand there and watch?" She asked tartly.

"I'm good," Daniel said, his insouciant manner eerily mirroring Zane's typical air of nonchalance. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Jo acknowledged that she had never in the least expected to find any similarity between Zane and her brothers or father. Evidently, she'd been mistaken.

Jo moved across the room to perch on the bed by the answering machine. She had just pressed the playback button on the machine when Zoe appeared next to Daniel in the doorway.

"So which room are you going to use for the baby?" Zoe asked curiously. But before Jo could reply, a voice came over the answering machine speakers, cutting her off.

"Hi, ah, this is Roger Winters, calling from Winters Construction for a Ms. Lupo, with regards to the work on your lake house? Your fiancée gave me this number before he went out of town." Zoe and Daniel goggled at Jo, who was frozen like a deer caught in headlights as the voice on the machine rattled off a contact number. Zoe was the first to regain her voice.

"Uh, Jo? Is there something else you 'forgot' to mention about you and Zane?" She asked, using her fingers as quotation marks. Jo hesitated for only a moment, but it was a moment Zoe caught and seized on. "Are you engaged?" She asked incredulously. Jo caught Daniel watching her and resisted the urge to toy with the chain around her neck, knowing it would not escape the scrutiny of either of her interrogators.

"No!" She denied. "Zane was probably just... oversimplifying things," she added half-heartedly. Daniel's eyebrows shot up.

"You're having his kid, I don't think it gets much simpler than that." He said pointedly. Jo snapped her mouth shut, recognizing that discretion was the better part of valor, and that, after all they'd risked and given up and challenged to give this baby a chance - all that _Zane_ had risked, however rashly - one wrong word would endanger them all. She gave her brother a thin, restrained smile.

"I guess not," was all she let herself say as she picked up the phone and dialed the number from the answering machine. "What have you done now, Zane?" she murmured as she listened to it ring.

* * *

Within a half hour, Jo was following her GPS system onto a small dirt road not far off the highway. Something about it seemed naggingly familiar, though Jo couldn't pinpoint the source of her déjà vu. Roger Winters had agreed to meet her here - wherever 'here' was, their conversation over the phone had been stilted and confusing, and Jo had been leery of revealing more than was necessary of their current circumstances to someone she was almost certain was a stranger to Eureka.

Zoe and Daniel were back in the back seat, having no other transportation and in any case having flat-out ignored Jo's hints that they might like to leave. The phone call with the contractor and Jo's subsequent declaration that she had somewhere to be had piqued their curiosity.

The wheels of the car crouched noisily over the frozen ground. The temperature was well below freezing and had been for the past few days, though there was no snow to be seen. For her part, Jo had been taken aback at the thought of a construction crew working under the current weather conditions, especially a construction crew Jo was reasonably certain was entirely unaffiliated with Eureka and thus not privileged with the kind of advanced equipment Jo had seen used in the construction of her new house. On the bright side, Jo knew such low-grade technologies were tried and tested and could be relied upon not to, for instance, petrify people.

As she rounded the last turn, a small, single story cabin came into view. The wood shingle exterior was clearly brand new, and evidence of the presence of construction vehicles in recent months was frozen into the bare ground surrounding the cabin. Jo felt a twist in her chest. Whatever this was, it had been going on for long enough to leave behind tire tracks before the ground had frozen over for the year. Jo pulled around to the side of the clearing and parked as a nondescript middle aged man stepped through the front door. The screen door flapped shut behind him.

Jo stepped out of the car, wrapping an arm protectively around her abdomen as she tried to get purchase on the uneven ground. Behind her, Zoe and Daniel clambered out of the car.

"You must be Ms. Lupo," he said, his eyes flickering from her face to her waistline and back again. He gave her a friendly, though reserved, smile. "Roger Winters. It's good to meet you. I'm afraid Mr. Donovan didn't tell me much before he left for his trip," he said apologetically.

"Oh, I just bet he didn't," Jo muttered under her breath. Behind her, Zoe's lips twitched with amusement, glad for a rare glimpse of Jo's spirit. Mr. Winters gestured toward the house.

"Would you like to step inside?" He offered. Jo plastered on a friendly smile, her heart beginning to pound as she wondered what, exactly, she would find inside. She followed him toward the door, walking awkwardly across the uneven ground and wishing she'd thought to bring boots. Zoe and Daniel trailed behind her uncertainly. At one point she stumbled over a rough patch and her brother darted forward to catch her, getting a shocked look from Zoe, who knew well enough how little Jo liked to be treated as a damsel in distress. Jo steadied herself in spite of his intervention, throwing Daniel a withering look in response to the hand on her arm, and he dropped his hand to step back with a sheepish smile.

Winters held the door for Jo, who gave him a strained smile in response. She stepped into a small foyer with a nondescript beige carpet and a wall of shelving and cupboards on one side, a row of shoe cubbies beneath. The door that led into the kitchen was ajar, revealing a kitchen painted cheerily in a pale shade of yellow. Jo stepped through the door and onto an off-white tiled floor, between a large china hutch and the kitchen table, both of which looked brand new. Jo whirled around to face Mr. Winters, who was standing respectfully behind her.

"Where did all of this come from?" She demanded. Winters gave her a polite smile.

"I'm afraid the house was in quite poor shape when we first arrived. We gutted much of the interior structure. Mr. Donovan authorized the hiring of an interior decorator. To be honest, we haven't seen him very much since then." Catching sight of Jo's face, he added anxiously, "He did say that cost was no object, but that he wanted the place to remain as understated as possible." Winters shook his head slightly at the perceived foibles of his client. Jo gave him a tight smile.

"I'd like to see the rest, if that's possible." She told him.

"Of course, of course," he said hastily, gesturing towards the door across from them. "Through here you'll find the living room, and the bedrooms are down the hallway..." he trailed off as Jo walked to the living room door. The living room was shaded more neutrally, painted in a shade of off-white. The pale shades only served to highlight the vibrant burgundy couches and armchairs, as well as the rich tones of the mahogany coffee table. At the far end of the room, there was a raised brick hearth extending from the fireplace.

Jo drifted through the room to the door directly opposite her, trailing her hand over the plush furniture absently. Winters trailed behind her at a respectful distance, sensing the solemnity in the air and having the good sense to remain silent, though he couldn't guess at its cause. As they moved further into the room, first Zoe and then Daniel stepped through the doorway to study the room.

Ahead of them, Jo caught her breath as she stepped onto what seemed to be a cross between a sun room and a porch. The room was covered in wood paneling on one side. The far side of the room boasted a row of windows, which lined up frame-to-frame to reveal the wide expanse of trees. The forest outside was a hodgepodge of coniferous and deciduous, but Jo could see the gleam of sunlight on ice through the bare branches. She bit her lip before tearing her eyes away from the view and returning through the door from whence she'd come. She breezed past Zoe and Daniel where they stood in the living room and turned into the hallway she'd seen off the kitchen. Mr. Winters, sensing his presence was unwelcome, chose to wait behind in the living room.

Jo scarcely glanced at the bathroom she passed, her heart in her throat, though she didn't know why. There were three rooms clustered at the end of the hall. Two of the doors were opened wide, and from where Jo stood, she could see beds, bookcases, night tables - but it was the third door, the one with a door only slightly ajar, to which Jo's eyes returned. She pushed the door open, anticipation and apprehension warring in her chest. Zane's words, from both the airport and his letter, were running through her head. Though his actions from the past weeks were beginning to make sense, she was floored to imagine the lengths he'd gone through to make it all happen - everything from the will, to Daniel's presence in Eureka, impossible as it was, to this house.

Jo stepped into the room, and caught her breath. There was a beautiful king sized bed in the center of the room, which even from her vantage point looked soft as a cloud. The room itself was painted a soothing shade of blue. But as inviting as the room was, what hit Jo like a sucker punch was the obviously hand carved wooden crib pushed against the far wall next to the bed. She drifted across the room in a daze to run a disbelieving hand over the crib, feeling as if she needed to touch it in order to verify its presence. Jo felt a pricking at the corners of hers eyes, and a twinge from her conscience. She hadn't even begun to seek out baby furniture yet, but here was this beautiful crib. Jo bit her lip until she could taste a hint of copper on her tongue, and fled the room.

Back in the room, she ignored Zoe and Daniel's concerned gazes, focusing instead on the eminently professional Mr. Winters.

"That crib - did the decorator pick it out?" Jo asked abruptly. Mr. Winters shook his head.

"No ma'am, that was Mr. Donovan's purchase." Jo merely nodded at the confirmation of her own suspicions. At the edge of the conversation, Zoe and Daniel's concern had been replaced by curiosity, and as Jo spoke Zoe slipped away to investigate the other rooms for herself. Daniel stayed behind, arms crossed over his chest, studying his sister intently.

"Would you happen to know where the crib came from?" Jo asked, surprising herself.

"I believe I have a shipping confirmation in my files, Ms. Lupo. I can forward a copy to you if you don't mind waiting." Mr. Winters informed her. Jo flashed him an automatic smile, her mind miles away.

"That would be great," she told him, her eyes scanning the room once more. Suddenly she felt exhausted. "Thank you for your time," she added. "When did you say you'd be finished?"

"Next week," he informed her. "And Mr. Donovan has already contracted us to build a dock this spring, when the conditions have improved." Jo simply nodded, no longer able to muster up a sense of surprise.

"Thank you," she said again, before turning to leave. She headed for the door off the kitchen, glancing back at Daniel and stopping in her tracks.

"Where's Zoe?" She asked. He jerked his chin in the direction of the kitchen. As if on cue, Zoe reappeared.

"Jo, this place is great," she enthused. "I wish we'd had somewhere like this when I was little." Jo raised an eyebrow as she brushed past the younger woman.

"I thought nature made you itchy," she said dryly, referring to an old conversation, and Zoe flushed.

"Well, maybe a little more beach than trees... still, it would have been nice to have somewhere we could go, just the three of us," Zoe said wistfully. Jo tried to restrain her reflexive flinch - would there ever be a family of three in this cabin? - but Zoe dropped her train of thought anyways. It was a sore subject for both of them, after all, if for very different reasons.

"So, Cafe Diem? Lunch?" Zoe asked hopefully - it was well past one - and Jo gave her the ghost of a smile.

"I think we could manage that," Jo said, falling behind as they stepped out of the house into the frigid December air, lingering to brush a hand over the doorframe that marked the threshold, as if it were a talisman warding against evil. She took a deep, steadying breath.

One day, she would see Zane in this house, would sleep in that bed with him, would eat breakfast and fight and make up and make love with him, all in this haven he had built for them.

She just needed to wait.

* * *

Jo slipped back in to the infirmary around eight that night, feeling drained after a long and emotional day. She'd returned Daniel to S.A.R.A.H. before driving back to GD, and she hadn't missed the concerned look he'd given her before disappearing into the bunker. She'd spent much of the afternoon dodging his questions, knowing even as she did so that she couldn't put him off forever.

Jo sighed and rubbed a tired hand over her face before sinking onto the corner of Zane's bed. She gazed down at his still, though peaceful, face, and reached out a gentle hand to run her fingers lightly through his hair.

"You have to wake up," Jo said, her voice quiet. "There's so much we need to talk about, Zane." She paused. "So much that we should have talked about already," she admitted. "I can't help but think that this is my fault... I should have pushed myself harder to talk to you." Jo licked her lips nervously. "Even if I was scared," she said softly, before leaning down to brush a gentle kiss on his forehead.

Jo slid off the edge of his bed reluctantly before pushing over the empty infirmary bed Allison had been quietly letting her use, night after night, though it had sternly been made clear that, should an actual patient require the bed, she'd have to give up what was regardless an unhealthy habit of sleeping in the infirmary. (Jo suspected that, were it not for Carter's timely intervention, Allison would never have conceded to the bed in the first place.) She pulled herself onto the bed, wincing at the strain of her unaccustomed extra weight on her back, and curled onto her side. With one arm draped protectively over the curve of her belly, she slipped Zane's hand into her own and gently caressed the back of his hand with the pad of his thumb.

"The lake house looks beautiful," she murmured, closing her eyes. "No wonder you've been so busy." Her hand tightened slightly around his as she recalled the weeks leading up to his coma, and she took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm.

And as she drifted off to sleep, Jo found herself lying on the grassy beach behind the cottage, smiling as a young girl with flyaway brown hair splashed a squealing little boy with bright blue eyes.

Beside her, Zane remained still as ever, save for the slightest flicker behind his closed eyelids.

* * *

_The first thing he'd noticed was the gray. It was everywhere, dim and bland and unpleasant, and Zane had promptly vowed to himself that as soon as he got out of this, it would be all colors, all the time. He wasn't sure how long he'd been there, though, and he was starting to worry he'd never find his way out. All he was really certain of was that he must get out. Jo _needed_ him – or, at the very least, a version of him._

_"Well, you've gone and screwed the pooch this time, make no mistake."_

_Zane whipped around, searching for the source of the voice._

_"Who's there?" He called defiantly, his voice unwavering._

_"Don't you know? Or isn't this what you wanted?" The voice asked, laughter to its tone. It sounded closer, but in no particular direction - Zane scanned his surroundings, pacing in a cautious circle, but it was no use. He could scarcely see more than three feet in front of him in the thick fog._

_"Cut the crap," he demanded. "Who are you, and what do you want?" He heard a cluck of disappointment to his right, and spun around, only to be confronted by - himself. For a moment Zane had been rendered thoroughly speechless - but only for a moment, before his chin went up with defiance and he faced his doppelganger head-on._

_"Who're you supposed to be? The ghost of Christmas present?" Zane sneered, though he remained inwardly unnerved. The other Zane cocked his head in imitation of an expression that Zane knew had been on his own face any number of times._

_"Now, there's a thought," he said, as if he were really chewing over the question. "That would be an amusing twist, wouldn't it? Or maybe I'm the ghost of Christmas past - " His impersonator was suddenly a perfect replica of himself at eight, right down to the terrible haircut that still made Zane cringe at the photos on his mother's mantelpiece, before flickering back to the image of himself he saw in the mirror daily. " - perhaps I'm the keeper of the Akashic field, or the consciousness of another you entirely - maybe the Jo you've been sleeping next to for weeks is from an alternate universe, had you considered that? And the Zane Donovan who really fathered that baby girl is still out there somewhere." A wave of possessiveness washed over Zane, and before he knew what he was doing, he had his mirror image by the collar._

_"There is no universe in which that baby girl isn't mine, do you hear me?" He snarled, before gathering the frayed strands of his control and letting his doppelganger go. The other him smoothed out his collar._

_"You're willing to fight for them, that's good. You'll need that." He said. Zane remained tense._

_"Who are you?" Zane demanded once more. The other Zane gave him a cool look._

_"Perhaps I'm just a figment of your imagination."_

_"I just grabbed you with my own bare hands," Zane pointed out, but his defense fell flat as he looked around the blank, foggy landscape. "This is all in my head, isn't it." He said, flatly. His doppelganger beamed at him._

_"Congratulations, you're in a coma." He informed him, the words contrasting horribly with the tone of his voice. "You cooked up a, well - a noble but idiotic plan to regain your memories from a timeline long since lost from time and space, and you were arrogant enough to think there would be no consequences." The memory of his actions was rushing back to Zane, now, and before he thought better of it, he blurted out a protest._

_"I knew there could be consequences! I was risking my life!" He said, defending his so-called noble plan with a degree of indignation. His doppelganger favored him with a pitying smile, which seemed bizarre and out of place on his face._

_"Silly little man," he said gently. "Did you think dying was a consequence? Death is easy. It's the living that's hard." Zane froze, the words filling with mingled hope and terror, both emotions ready to burst through the seams._

_"And which," he asked the figure before him, steady in the face of his own apprehension, "should I be anticipating today?"_

_His doppelganger's smile held all the patience of eternity._

_"Sit," he told Zane, gesturing to a chair that Zane would have sworn hadn't been there a minute ago. "I have a story, or two, for you."_

_And, suddenly, impossibly, they were in an achingly familiar internet cafe in New York City, and Zane felt a great, soaring hope._

* * *

A/N: So as some of you have most certainly noticed - judging from the private messages and reviews I have been receiving in the last three weeks, which fill me with equal parts guilt, amusement and satisfaction - it's been a little while since the last chapter. There's nothing so nervewracking as writing a new character. Daniel was a struggle, even though I've been working on writing this chapter since January. Between our new character and the two other POVs from Jo, characters I had never written that way before. I feel like I succeeded with Zoe & Grace, at least. I think my favorite part of this whole chapter is the last scene, inspired by Stephen King's "The Man in the Black Suit," which is just a fantastic short story. Also, re: my writing style, I would really like to recommend the Harry Potter fanfiction "Buried Treasure and Transmogrify" at Checkmated, by RiennaHawkes. Brilliantly written, very much NC-17 so tough luck for you younger folks. She's pretty much my writing idol, and I don't think this story would exist if not for that one. In my head, it's THE Lily & James Potter backstory. Been meaning to recommend it for ages.

Anyways, PLEASE let me know what you think about this chapter I've been agonizing over. Gently, if you would. Don't want to wound my delicate writer feelings.

ADM

TAKE NOTE: IMPORTANT EDIT! Due to popular demand, and the fact that I'd always meant to write it that way anyways, Daniel's age has been... tweaked. He is Jo's younger brother, and had it not been for "One Time at Space Camp," I would never have felt compelled to mess with that. But several people were disappointed, and frankly I felt like it was awkward and unwieldy, so there you have it. It's not as if Jo's taking an infant to Titan anyways... haha. ;) Once more, with emphasis, for those who are rereading: _I cheated and edited his age. _Sorry for the confusion, and yes I feel totally sheepish about this. Sorry for the confusion._  
_


	18. Chapter 18

Everything Is Illuminated

Today - just one day before Christmas Eve - Jo was a woman on a mission. She'd surprised herself, last night, when she'd received the copy of Roger Winters' shipping receipt for the crib at the lake house and made a snap decision to go to the store in Portland the next day, but the next morning she'd dutifully prepared herself to spend a few hours outside of Eureka.

She'd left the infirmary long before most people even arrived at GD, leaving an explanatory note that explained almost nothing at all by Zane's bedside table. _Gone to Portland_, it read. _Back in a few hours_. The fact of the matter was that Jo herself had no real explanation, just the urge to go see the place where Zane had found that beautiful - mahogany, as it turned out - crib.

That was how she'd found herself standing in front of The Wishing Tree Antique Shop in downtown Portland. Jo double-checked the packing slip unnecessarily, and then looked back up at the unassuming store front. She shrugged to herself.

"Alright then," she muttered, before striding the last three feet to pull open the door.

The interior was no more imposing than the exterior, with that peculiar not-quite-dusty but still old quality which it seemed, in Jo's experience, that all antique stores shared. She hesitated on the threshold - who was she kidding? This had never been her thing. She belonged on a shooting range somewhere, not in a shop full of delicate dishware that she couldn't even cook well enough to fill up. But the thought of Zane lying in that hospital bed, so quiet and still, propelled her forward. If he could risk his life like that, then she could risk – well. Whatever it was that she was risking. Whatever was making her heart pound this way.

Jo loosened her scarf and unbuttoned her wool peacoat reflexively as the warmth of the small store registered. As her fingers darted over the buttons, she glanced around the cluttered store. Knick-knacks and dishware were on every available surface, and there were more than enough surfaces to choose from. Dining tables, side tables, shelves and hutches seemed to cover every square inch of the store, and Jo's spirit quailed at the thought of trying to find a specific item in the chaos.

"Can I help you?" A warm voice startled Jo, and she returned her eyes to the floor space around her, only to discover a petite silver haired woman standing before her, her piercing blue eyes studying Jo intently. "Claire Tully. I'm the owner." She was one of those rare women who only become more striking with age. Jo opened her mouth with surprise, shut it, then opened it again.

"...yes," she decided with some hesitation. The older woman watched her closely. "My..." She considered the other woman carefully before settling on Zane's half-truth, "...fiancé purchased a crib here recently." She indicated the shipping receipt clutched in her hand.

"I hope there wasn't anything wrong with it?" The older woman asked solicitously. Jo's eyes widened a fraction.

"No! No, it's wonderful, really. Actually, I was wondering if you might have more, or something similar." Jo handed her the shipping receipt, and the older woman studied it for a moment before looking up, her expression thoughtful.

"We may at that," she said finally. "If you'd follow me?" She turned and began to navigate the spaces between tables, leading Jo on a winding path to the far end of the store.

There was a smattering of beds, toward the back of the store; the surfaces here seemed jarringly bare in comparison to the tables by the front. The petite older woman turned back to study Jo momentarily.

"We have only a few cribs," she explained unnecessarily, as Jo gazed behind her, "and just the one crib and changing table set, now. But I would recommend this one." Jo's eyes roamed over the cribs. All three were handsome pieces of work, there was no doubt about that, but one in particular drew her eyes. It was a gorgeous, dark mahogany with glossy embellishments on the back board which rose high on the long side of the crib.

For some reason she couldn't pinpoint, it reminded Jo inescapably of her mother, and she felt her eyes sting.

"I'll take it," she said abruptly, clearing her throat when what she really wanted was to clear her mind. "The changing table, too." The older woman smiled pleasantly, though her sharp blues eyes never faltered in their study of Jo's face.

"Is there anything else, or would you like me to ring you up?" She asked.

"Oh - no," Jo said. "If you could ring me up, that would be great." She shifted uncomfortably on her feet, glancing at the cribs once more.

"Very well," Mrs. Tully murmured. "If you'd just follow me this way." She led Jo back through the store to a counter and register placed against the wall. She stepped behind the counter and leaned over to retrieve an empty sales slip and tag.

"Name and address?" She asked briskly.

"Josefina Lupo," she spelled her first name for the older woman's benefit, "4020 Coriolis Loop, Eureka, Oregon." Jo rattled off Eureka's zip code quickly, her mind drifting back to Zane in the infirmary, her hand absently pressed to her abdomen. In front of her, Mrs. Tully's gaze sharpened in response to her home address.

"Eureka, you said?" She asked, drawing Jo's focus back into the room.

"Yes," Jo said shortly, reluctant as always to draw the attention of outsiders to the bottled crazy she called a hometown. But the older woman's interest seemed to lie elsewhere.

"I remember your fiancé. A well built, handsome young man, yes? Striking blue eyes. I was surprised to see him in an antique store." Jo smiled at the image presented by the older woman's words, though her smile was tainted with wistfulness.

"I imagine the two of you will make beautiful babies," Mrs. Tully continued, her eyes skimming the curve of Jo's expanding waist. The easy honesty of the compliment made Jo glance down, biting her lip. Zane might not even see his firstborn - what were the odds they'd ever find themselves with more than one child? She rallied herself carefully - the other woman meant well, after all - and plastered a smile she didn't feel to her face before looking back up.

"Thank you," she said. The other woman nodded, but it was clear she'd seen Jo's reflexive first response. She didn't address it.

"Now, what kind of shipping would you like to use?" Mrs. Tully continued calmly.

"Oh, I'll have someone come by to pick it up," Jo said quickly. It wasn't often that outsiders found themselves in Eureka after all, and they preferred to keep it that way. Non-disclosure forms could only do so much. Mrs. Tully gave her a curious look but said nothing, beginning to write up a receipt.

"Now, your fiancé's name is Zane, isn't it?" She asked casually, but continued without waiting for confirmation. "An unusual name. Literary, I believe." Jo kept her smile plastered on by sheer force of will.

"His mother is an English literature professor," she said shortly. Mrs. Tully nodded, handing her the receipt. Jo gave her a quick nod and turned to go, eager now to get back to the infirmary.

"Josefina." The single word was soft, well-intended, and spoken in exactly the tone her mother used to use for the name Jo had avoided using since her mother's death. Jo froze in place and turned around to face the speaker. Claire Tully gave her a sympathetic smile.

"This, too, shall pass." Jo opened her mouth, closed it again, and fled.

* * *

Jo was still shaken by the time she made it back to Eureka, and consequently she was unprepared to find Zoe and Daniel waiting for her in the infirmary. She froze on her second step into the infirmary, when Zoe spotted her and shot up from her chair by Zane's bed.

"Jo! Where the hell have you been?" She demanded. Behind her, Daniel's expression was rueful: no doubt predicting Jo's response. But Daniel didn't have the full picture, and when Jo did respond it was with exhaustion and resignation rather than the defiance he'd been expecting.

"Portland," Jo said simply, not quite looking Zoe in the eye. "It doesn't matter. Were you waiting to get lunch?" Zoe shot her an incredulous look before glancing back to Daniel for support, but he gave her an almost imperceptible shake of the head. Zoe deflated almost visibly.

"Um, yeah, we were going to get lunch. Do you - d'you want to come, or I could bring something back for you...?" Zoe trailed off. Jo gave her a half-hearted smile.

"Cafe Diem, then, unless you have any objections." Jo turned on her heel and back out the infirmary door. In her wake, Zoe and Daniel exchanged a swift glance which read _"What did I miss?"_ before following.

Lunch went poorly. By the time they made it to Cafe Diem, Jo had retreated into herself and away from their over-attentiveness, to what seemed like a near-catatonic state. Protectiveness seemed to have spurred Daniel into the opposite direction, all ill-temper and snarls at well-meaning passers-by. Zoe had been torn between her worry from Jo and an annoyance with Daniel's attitude - these people were their friends, after all, and who did he think he was anyways? Being Jo's brother didn't give him carte blanch to be such an unmitigated ass to people who had just as much right to Jo as he did - after all, Jo had been theirs for well over four years. The last straw, at least from where Zoe stood, was when Fargo dropped by to talk to Jo and Daniel all but snarled at him before he backed off.

It had put Zoe in an ill temper of her own, the remainder of which still lingered when she woke unexpectedly that night. She blinked twice, adjusting to the darkness, then scowled and grabbed her fluffy red body pillow before flipping over to face the door. She wrapped herself like a prawn around the pillow and tugged her sheets up, burying her face in her favorite quilt. That was when she heard the feet shuffling past her door and realized it was less of a _what_ that had woken her, and more of a _whom_. Her scowl deepened slightly. Jack Carter, unlike his daughter, was a sound sleeper, and Allison wasn't staying here tonight. There was only one possible culprit.

The footsteps faded away, and Zoe flopped onto her back with a sigh, her anger evaporating into a vague sense of guilt. Nobody had seemed inclined to give her a straight answer about Daniel Lupo's presence in Eureka - the man himself had been all too tightlipped about it - but it was obvious enough he cared about Jo, and Zoe supposed his apparent insomnia wasn't really his fault. She chewed on her lip thoughtfully before giving the clock a regretful look. It was late enough that you could just as easily call it early, but - he was their guest, after all. Zoe peeled herself away from her pillow and padded to her bedroom door barefoot.

Daniel's eyes were already fixed on the door to the kitchen when Zoe stepped into view, and she repressed a shiver. He was assessing her in a way Zoe had only ever seen from one other person - his sister. Was that predatory poise a family trait, Zoe wondered absently, or something they'd picked up in the military?

"I instructed S.A.R.A.H. not to wake you," Daniel said regretfully, shooting a reproachful look at the ceiling. Zoe stifled a smile. The man may be something of a cold fish in company, but she had to concede there were _some_ things about Eureka that he'd adapted to quite readily. Though, if he still thought he had any control over what S.A.R.A.H did, he had a long way to go.

"She didn't," Zoe said simply, pulling out her own stool to settle at the counter. "Though for future reference, she doesn't really take orders. S.A.R.A.H., could I get some of that orange spice tea?"

"I didn't think I was that loud," Daniel said, his brow furrowed in thought. Zoe shrugged artlessly, the wide neck of her pajama top sliding low over one shoulder.

"I'm a light sleeper," she said. "When I'm at school I sleep with earplugs. But I didn't expect to need them here, so they're still out in Boston." She paused. "We left in kind of a hurry," she said as an afterthought, her mind turning to Jo.

"Right," Daniel said, looking slightly uncomfortable.

"She was acting oddly today, don't you think?" Zoe asked without thinking. Daniel furrowed his brow in response.

"Jo?" He verified. Zoe rolled her eyes.

"Who else?"

"You noticed that too?" He asked, sounding surprised. Zoe narrowed her eyes at him.

"I mean, it was kind of obvious, don't you think?" She asked, rhetorically. Daniel took a deep sip of his tea in lieu of a response, and Zoe took the opportunity to barrel forward hastily in the conversation.

"I couldn't believe the way she let you go all protective big brother on her ass. You've got to be like, what, four years younger than her?" Her tone was challenging, but Daniel seemed to take it in stride.

"Six," he said calmly. "We were real close growing up, though," he added. Zoe slid off her stool to grab the steaming mug of herbal tea. As she clambered back onto the stool, the steaming liquid splashed out of her mug and onto her fingers, making her hiss and drop the mug abruptly on the table, sticking her fingers into her mouth reflexively. She flushed when she noticed Daniel watching her.

"I should get a dish towel for that," she muttered, dropping her eyes away from his and slipping off her stool once more, this time with a haste born of embarrassment.

"So you were close as kids?" She prompted, hoping to distract from her discomfort as she reached for the drawer where S.A.R.A.H. kept their dish towels. Daniel was all too happy to oblige.

"Jo's probably told you we have two older brothers?" Daniel verified.

"Not exactly," Zoe muttered. Jo was notoriously tightlipped about her personal life, and the issue of family was one nut Zoe had yet to crack. Daniel, missing her muttered comment entirely, moved on with no real answer.

"Rico - Enrico - and Gabriel." He smiled absently into his mug. "They used to call us Runt and Shrimp when we were kids. He grinned, suddenly, his teeth brilliant against the caramel skin he shared with Jo, and it was as genuine as it was unexpected. Zoe sucked in a deep breath. "I was Runt, of course. If it weren't for Jo, I probably would've thought my name _was_ Runt." His lips twitched with amusement. "It was always us against the world," he added absently, his eyes distant with memories. Zoe felt suddenly and unaccountably - it was her kitchen, after all! - as if she were intruding.

"I should get back to bed," she murmured, carrying her now-empty mug to the automatic dishwasher. On her way out, she paused at the doorway.

"Goodnight," she said quietly, before slipping from the kitchen. Daniel glanced up belatedly, after she had already vanished from the room.

"Goodnight," he echoed to the empty room.

* * *

The next morning found Jo sitting by Zane's bedside, in the same place she'd started her day yesterday - and the day before that, and the day before that. The privacy curtain hung by her head, pulled open to let in the light. She was still spending her nights in the infirmary, which required in turn early mornings to avoid the hustle and bustle as it transformed from her own personal fortress of solitude into a workplace.

From across the room, Allison caught her eye and redirected her path to stop before Jo, who was perched upon the edge of the bed. The sheets were crisply made, in typical military fashion. Jo was doing everything she could to make her stay in the infirmary as unobtrusive as possible.

A moment passed in silence, a testament to Jo's unwillingness to discuss whatever it was that Allison had on her mind. Allison was the first to break the silence.

"His vitals have improved, Jo," she said, her eyes straying to the man who remained pale and still in his bed. "I wouldn't be surprised if we saw him wake up any day now."

"But he hasn't," Jo stated flatly. She plucked at the sheets, refusing to look Allison in the eye.

"No, he hasn't," She agreed. There was a pause. "But it's my professional opinion he will. His brain activity looks unusual right now, but there is activity." She looked thoughtful. "I'll be interested to see what he has to say when he wakes." Jo gave her a sharp look.

"How so?" She asked briskly, trying not to give away how the thought affected her. Allison shrugged one shoulder.

"He attempted an experiment no-one has ever tried. I know Nathan would have been fascinated," she added, referencing her late fiancé's work. "The Akashic Field..." she trailed off, eyes distant, and Jo was certain she was thinking of another time, another place, another version of her son. The thought made her bristle slightly. She didn't want to understand the vagaries of time and space. She just wanted Zane to come back to her.

"But his experiment failed," she snapped. "Now all we can learn when he wakes up is whether or not he has permanent brain damage." Allison gave her a half-smile.

"Did it fail?" She questioned mildly. "None of us really understand how the Akashic Field works." Jo pursed her lips and looked back to Zane in silence. She'd never really given herself permission to consider the possibility, but - what if it _did_ work? And another, more disquieting question - did she even want it to? In spite of all her misgivings, she'd been happy with this Zane. This Zane had risked everything to keep her, and their baby, safe – and then he'd gone ahead and risked his life to make her happy. She didn't want to lose their memories together again – to lose him again – even if it meant giving up their past, a past that felt increasingly unimportant. Still - the very thought of willingly surrendering that past felt dirty, disloyal to a person and a relationship she'd genuinely cherished, and Jo pushed it forcefully from her mind, exhaling with a sudden _whoosh_ of air. Allison pressed a comforting hand to her shoulder and squeezed, startling Jo, before pushing off the bed to stand and walk away. She stopped after a few steps to look back where Jo remained, still as a statue, by Zane's bedside.

"Merry Christmas, Jo," she murmured gently before she turned and walked away.

* * *

It wasn't Christmas, of course - at least, not technically speaking. It was Christmas Eve, which carried implications of its own, not the least of which was the advent of GD's holiday party and endless holiday festivity at Cafe Diem. It was such festivity that Jo walked in on a few hours later at Cafe Diem.

She'd been reluctant to leave the infirmary, after her encounter yesterday and her words with Allison that morning, but everyone was going to be there and Carter had given her such a pleading look when he'd asked earlier that she'd found it hard to ignore him. That was how noon found her stepping through the swinging door into Café Diem, a chilly breeze snapping at her heels and rushing into the café behind her. The cafe was lively, though its population was diminished from the usual lunchtime crowd. Most of the inhabitants traveling for the holiday had already departed in the days prior; the few stragglers who remained were clearing out after GD's early closing that morning.

Jo found them in the back, gathered on a smattering of sofas and armchairs that had clearly been rearranged to their convenience. She hesitated for a minute, reluctant to face the relentless cheer of the holidays, until Carter glanced up and caught sight of her.

"Jo! You made it!" He exclaimed. Jo gave him a small smile in response.

"I did," she confirmed, before glancing around, looking for a chair. Before she could take another step, Fargo scrambled out of his chair to drag over a new seat.

'Here you go, Jo," he said uncomfortably, making an obvious effort not to stare at the bulge of her abdomen. Jo smiled at him, torn between surprise and amusement. She hadn't seen much of him since she'd gone public with the pregnancy, and since Zane's incident she knew he had been doing damage control on her behalf. Evidently, he hadn't had much time to acclimate to the recent changes to her appearance.

Jo slid her chair in between Zoe and Daniel and settled in. Grace, across from her, gave her a welcoming smile.

"How are you doing, Jo?" She asked warmly.

Jo squirmed subtly in her seat. Being friends with Carter had accustomed her to a degree of concern over her well-being and the occasional curious probe into her personal life, but even though she teased him sometimes about his 'girl talk,' the fact of the matter was she couldn't remember the last time she'd faced the persistent personal inquiries that were so frequently the purview of female relationships. Even Zoe trod lightly when she and Jo talked, and Zoe was like a sister to her. Jo had no idea what Grace's relationship with the Jo of this timeline had originally been, but based on what she _had_ heard regarding the altered timeline Jo, she somehow doubted the other woman had shared much in the way of an intimate relationship with that Jo Lupo. Jo could only assume Grace's interest was all part and parcel of the changes that had rocked the woman's marriage.

"Good, thanks," she answered tightly. Henry leaned forward in the loveseat he was sharing with Grace.

"I have to say, Jo, you certainly are looking larger. Are you sure you're not having twins?" He asked, laughter in his voice.

"Henry!" Grace shot her husband a look, aghast. "I'm so sorry, Jo. Clearly this man was a bachelor for much too long." She apologized, but all of Jo's attention had gone to Allison. From the alarm on Jo's face it was obvious that the possibility of twins had never even occurred to her.

"Don't worry, Jo," Allison said hastily, answering her unspoken question. "There's only the one baby. I promise," she said, directing a stern look at Henry, whose eyes were twinkling unrepentantly.

Zoe cast a quick glance at Jo and, reading her expression, jumped into the conversation with a well-timed anecdote from the past semester. In short order, attention had shifted from Jo and her pregnancy to Zoe's exploits at Harvard. Jo sank into her seat, grateful for Zoe's intervention. She was just starting to relax and tune in to the conversation, when Jenna, with a particularly enthusiastic wave of her hands, sprayed Allison's blouse with sweet potato.

"...oh! Jenna!" Allison cut herself off with an exclamation of dismay, swiveling around in her seat to snatch at her small pile of napkins. She dapped at her blouse, frowning, before discarding the filthy napkin and glancing at the group surrounding her. Instinct born of thousands of years of evolution fixed her eyes on the only other mother in the group.

"Here, Jo, take Jenna for a second, would you?" She asked, and without waiting for a response pushed Jenna into Jo's arms. "I should go rinse this out," she said distractedly, glancing down at her blouse. She hurried off in the direction of the bathrooms, leaving Jo behind her, still frozen in place. Jenna began to fuss and squirm in her arms.

"Ah, Jo? I think you may be holding her too tightly," Grace warned her gently. Jo glanced down and loosened her fingers carefully when she saw how tightly she'd been gripping they baby. "I can take her," Grace offered.

"I'm fine," snapped Jo defensively, though she loosened her fingers. She glanced down at the toddler's face and Jenna stared back, her brown eyes wide and guileless. Jo found herself searching for something of Nathan Stark in her face, but it was all Allison: dark eyes and creamy skin the color of cafe au lait. If there was anything of Nathan Stark in there, it was well buried for now. Even in this last piece of him he was nothing but a faded memory. Jo felt a little sick at the thought. Would she hold her own baby one day and find herself searching for traces of the man she'd loved and lost? The alternative Allison had suggested – a Zane who woke up with no memory of their past few months together – only made her ache inside with guilt and sadness.

Jenna, having somehow procured a sugar packet, reached it in a questing hand toward Jo's face. She poked at Jo's closed lips with a corner of the packet.

"Po?" She said, her tone querying. Jo, taken by surprise, opened her mouth reflexively only to have the sugar packet stuffed in. She spat it back out noisily, freeing a hand to wipe at her mouth, and Jenna stared at her until Jo began to feel uncomfortable.

Then -

"Po!" Jenna declared, holding up a new sugar packet. Jo blinked - how on earth had she - but across the coffee table, Carter looked smug. Jo narrowed her eyes.

"You're supplying her with ammunition, aren't you?"

Carter was saved by Allison's reappearance, now with a damp orange spot on her blouse.

"Thanks, Jo," she said, looking harried. "That's the second time today," she complained as she pulled Jenna out of Jo's arms. "Jenna is into throwing things lately, isn't she?" She added rhetorically, her voice softening as she spoke to her daughter. Jo smiled politely, arms feeling unexpectedly bereft at the loss of that almost-comfortable weight.

Allison settled back in to her seat, and Jo caught Carter studying her from across the coffee table. She looked away and sighed inwardly, sensing an interrogation looming. Well, if he tried, the joke was on Carter. _Jo_ didn't even know how she felt anymore.

* * *

When lunch finally came to an end, Jo made a swift exit, intending to make her escape while Carter was still preoccupied with Allison and Jenna – easy enough, or so she'd assumed.

"Jo, hey!" She heard Carter calling from behind her. At least she'd made it almost halfway down the sidewalk. Jo sighed before turning to face him, accepting the inevitable. He jogged over and skidded to a stop in front of her, pausing to take a couple deep breaths.

"Allison told me this morning that she thought Zane would wake up soon. Congratulations," he said. Jo gave him a tight smile, her stomach turning.

"Thanks," she said. Carter studied her, the excitement in his keen blue eyes fading.

"You're not jumping for joy," he stated, a little puzzled. "Why are you not jumping for joy?" Jo bit her lip and toyed with the fringe on her scarlet scarf, twisting it between her fingers.

"Of course I'm glad… joyful," she amended with a wry look. "It's just… I had never really wondered before, what would happen when he woke up, I was so focused on _if_." Carter raised his eyebrows.

"Allison says we won't know whether or not he succeeded until he wakes up," Jo explained softly. Understanding lit Carter's eyes. He hesitated, choosing his words carefully.

"You know, Jo, it's okay to want the life you've made with this Zane. The new timeline Zane," he clarified. Jo sighed and turned away from him, staring pensively at her feet at she resumed the walk to her car.

"It feels like, no matter what, I end up betraying one of them," she admitted quietly.

"Then I guess you stand accused of loving the guy enough to get past two years of lost history _and_ the possibility of being sanctioned." Carter shot back. His expression was one of fond exasperation. Jo deflected.

"You know I never would have risked telling him if it was just about me," she defended unnecessarily. Carter just shook his head.

"You have a bad habit of getting in your own way, Jo," he sighed. "My advice? Just let it be. It is what it is." He glanced at his watch. "I've got to go. Promised Andy the afternoon off to see S.A.R.A.H." He shuddered dramatically before sending Jo a firm look. "Think about it." He said, and walked away, hands tucked into his pockets. Jo walked the final yards to her car herself, her mind spinning. She unlocked the car robotically, absently clinging to the doorframe to steady herself as she climbed into her seat. Keys in the ignition, the car came alive beneath her: but Jo remained still and silent, staring blankly at the space just above the dashboard.

It was a long time before she finally put the car into drive.

* * *

By the time Jo made it to the church service that evening, her mood had gone from panicked to contemplative. Carter's words from earlier were still rattling through her head. Was it really as easy as just letting go? Accepting that Zane was still Zane in all the ways that mattered? She'd grown to recognize that the past few months she shared with the Zane of the new timeline were just as important to her, if not more important to her, than the two years of relationship that preceded them. Maybe it really was just a matter of acceptance.

Still lost in thought, Jo fell into line among the admittedly few churchgoers in Eureka. The scent of evergreens reached her the moment she stepped through the front door. Garlands of pine were threaded from one end of the room to another, golden bows affixed at the height of every curve of garland. Above the garlands, in the alcove of each stained glass window, a fat white candle rested nestled into the center of a wreath. The soft light cast by the dancing flames flickered against the windows, making the images in the stained glass seem to come alive with motion. Jo took another deep breath and caught a hint of the musky scent of hot wax.

She slid into a pew toward the front of the church, unbuttoning her peacoat and removing it to reveal a midnight blue dress with a v neck and an empire waist: a concession to the increasingly prominent bulge of her belly and the discomfort it engendered when she wore her business suits. She wasn't required to wear business suits, of course, not on a normal day at GD and certainly not during the holiday party she would be attending next, but on a typical day she preferred them.

This Christmas did not even come close to qualifying as typical, and Jo sat stiffly as the churchgoing crowd milled about, filling into pews. She could almost feel the curious glances from her neighbors; it had become clear in past months that the new timeline Jo had not been one to frequent Eureka's one and only church. The fact that she was unexpectedly expecting had only contributed fuel to the metaphorical flame. Their curiosity was more pronounced than it had been in recent weeks, however, no doubt due to the addition of the more seasonal attendees of services who were not yet accustomed to her presence. Grace and Henry would be somewhere among the crowd, Jo knew, as would Allison with Jenna and Kevin. Zoe and Carter were the odd ones out, this time. She'd invited Daniel – to be polite, mostly; she'd long since accepted, even understood, his reasons for bowing out of religion – but he'd opted to spend his time at S.A.R.A.H. and meet up with her later as her date to GD's Christmas party.

Jo sank further into the pew with a small sigh of relief, reaching one hand behind her to massage the small of her back. From what she recalled of Allison's pregnancy with Jenna, she was in the early days yet, but already the changes in weight distribution on her petite frame were throwing off her workouts and producing a persistent ache in her lower back.

The pianist up front began to play, and Jo slipped her hand back onto her lap before straightening up in the pew. The bright tones of the piano were soothing, and after a few minutes passed Jo found herself relaxing in a way she hadn't managed since that before that tense flight back from Boston.

Her mind drifted, until she was jerked back to the present when the woman beside her cleared her throat awkwardly, catching Jo's attention only to hand her a small candle with a plastic holder to contain dripping wax. Jo took it and glanced around the room, realizing that most of the congregation members had already received their own candles. Up front, the soft glow of candles spread like a wave down the first aisle, and two candle bearers were just lighting the first candle of the second row, the two of them back to back in the middle aisle. The pianist waited until the candle bearers reached the row behind Jo before she began to lead the congregation in 'Silent Night.'

The glow of the candles spread through the crowd, until the warm glow of candlelight seemed to encase the sanctuary, the flames casting flickering light on the ornate arches which supported the ceiling. Something in Jo's chest contracted at the sight, making her feel a little breathless with an unnameable emotion. Only a few inches further, something fluttered just beneath her ribcage. It took Jo a minute to identify the same sensations she'd noticed the night she returned to Eureka. This time, more awake and considerably calmer, she splayed one hand against the mound of her waist. The baby's movements - Jo knew her body much too well to identify them as anything else - were still too faint to reach her hand, but she kept it there anyway, battling between the surreality of the moment and her quiet sense of awe.

The song drew to a close, and the motley congregation began to extinguish their candles, the light dissipating in patches across the room. The overhead lights came back on, and Jo realized with embarrassed dismay that the woman beside her was now eying her pensive expression and still-lit candle with a speculative look. She snatched her hand away from her belly and blew out the candle abruptly, not quite blushing, before sinking back into her seat, hoping the cushions might swallow her whole.

* * *

Across town, Daniel's fingers tapped anxiously against the frame of the couch. He shifted on his feet and glanced at his wristwatch. 7:00.

"Zoe?" He called up the stairs. At first, there was nothing, but a rustling from the stairs caught his attention and he glanced up. His first view was of a flash of pale skin and a swish of dark green fabric, which eventually resolved into Zoe Carter standing on the landing. She bit her lip hesitantly, which, with her short honey-colored hair hanging in loose curls and her green dress flowing in swirls and eddies around her knees, conjured up the image of a mischievous pixie out for a night on the town.

Daniel's hand was very still where it remained on the frame of the couch. His whole body had gone quite still, in fact, and his face was so impassive it verged on forbidding. Zoe smoothed the fabric beneath her hands uncomfortably. By now she was used to the stiff, disapproving way he always seemed to hold himself, but tonight it seemed more pointed than ever and it made Zoe feel childish in a way even her parents rarely managed.

Still, it wasn't in Zoe's nature to give so much as an inch, and she met Daniel's eyes with a defiant lift of her chin.

"Ready to go?" She asked quickly, in an attempt to deflect his attention. He gave her a startled look, followed swiftly by confusion.

"What - oh. Yes." He replied. The uncertainty in his tone escaped Zoe's attention, and she stepped briskly down the stairs and past him, her strappy silver heels clicking rhythmically against S.A.R.A.H.'s polished floors.

"S.A.R.A.H, door." There was a familiar _whoosh_ of air as the hermetic seal of the bunker broke and the door swung slowly open. Zoe whirled around to face Daniel, her dress billowing out smoothly around her knees. "Well?" She asked him sharply, olive eyes flashing. "Are you coming or not?"

Daniel opened his mouth to respond, then clapped it shut again. Zoe rolled her eyes before pivoting back to the door.

"I'll be in the car," she snapped, before marching through the entrance to the bunker. She was out of sight, the click of her heels on the stairs echoing against the concrete walls of the bunker, before Daniel found his voice again.

"I'm coming!" He shouted, running a disbelieving hand over his face before racing out the door to catch up with her. Behind them, the door to the bunker swung shut with a satisfied _hiss_.

* * *

Jo had never really liked the Christmas party at GD. It was glitzy and ostentatious and generally overdone, whether it was Nathan Stark or Allison or Fargo at the helm. (Though, in their defense, even when it had been Stark or Allison running the show at GD, it had been their trusty assistant Fargo doing all the planning. There was an obvious common denominator here.) The year that Eva Thorne usurped control of GD could perhaps have been an improvement in that regard, had she not cancelled the party altogether. ("Frivolous," she had said, and in hindsight, how had they _not_ known the woman dated back to the fifties?)

Showing up at the Christmas party after the understated elegance of the church service only served to highlight the contrast between the two, and any other year it would have grated on Jo. But this year - in spite of everything - Jo's spirits remained high as they entered GD and the tacky, obnoxious commercialized Christmas carols reached her ears.

Her brother was here. Her brother. Jo didn't even _know_ how many years it had been since she'd seen a Christmas with one of her brothers. Since she'd graduated from West Point? It seemed - well, impossible really, and Zane was the one who'd made it happen.

She couldn't help but worry that she'd never get the chance to thank him for that.

"Jo!" Zoe appeared from amongst the throng of partygoers. "Finally! Somebody has to talk to the Reverend about the length of her services, I mean, _really_." She complained. Jo gave her a small smile.

"Well, I'm here now," Jo said. She eyed the diaphanous green folds of the skirt of Zoe's dress. "You look lovely, by the way," she told her, making a darker expression flicker quickly and almost imperceptibly across Zoe's face.

"Thanks," she said shortly. "Your brother is over there, by the way." She gestured in the general direction of the punch bowl. Jo threw her a grateful smile, which Zoe shrugged off before striding away in the opposite direction. Jo watched her retreating form for a minute, a quiet question hovering in the back of her mind, before she turned to approach her brother.

Daniel was by the coffee dispenser, looking perplexed - a feeling Jo could appreciate. Eureka being what it was, even the coffee dispenser had bells and whistles most people would never expect.

"The button on the left should get you a simple cup of coffee," she said, standing behind him. Daniel startled, dropping his empty cup and a small plate of cookies. He dove after them with a muffled curse, eventually standing and disposing of both plate and cookies reluctantly. His hands were shaking when he turned to Jo, forcing him to deposit his cup on the table and clench his hands by his waist before turning his attention to his sister. The motion didn't quite escape his sister, no matter how he attempted to hide it, but Jo held her tongue.

"Hey," he said dumbly. His eyes darted over Jo's shoulder quickly before fixing on her face. "Ah - how was the service?" He asked, looking uncomfortable. His discomfort was reflected in Jo's own face as the two siblings assessed each other, the ashes of an old argument lying between them.

Jo smiled, suddenly, and just as quickly as it had come, the tension between them eased.

"It was good," she said, and opened her mouth to speak before being struck with sudden shyness. She closed it and bit her lip, before starting again.

"I felt the baby kick," she confessed. Daniel blinked, processing the words, and studied his sister. It was subtle, but her face was lit in a way that had so far been absent from his stay in Eureka. He considered her in silence, the wheels in his mind turning until she shifted uncomfortably on her feet and he realized he'd taken too long to respond.

"Congratulations, Jo," he said, his tone sincere, and flashed her a quick smile before changing tack. "Now, big sister," he said, eyebrows raised as he emphasized 'big' with a nod toward her stomach, "may I have this dance?" He gestured to the small dance floor arranged artfully between the buffet tables.

Jo narrowed her eyes challengingly at his teasing, but suppressed amusement shone in her eyes as she responded, head tilted thoughtfully.

"I _suppose_ so." His eyes glimmering with their shared amusement, Daniel inclined his head toward the crowd.

"Ladies first," he said, deadpan.

"Don't push it, brat."

* * *

Jo was caught by surprise when the clock finally hit ten and she realized the party was coming to a close. If it weren't for the evidence before her and the ache building in her lower back, she wouldn't have guessed that more than a half hour had passed. The party had been surprisingly uneventful: unlike last year, nobody had so much as spiked the punch. (Unlike last year, Zane wasn't conscious.)

Jo stubbornly insisted on sticking around to supervise cleanup, though Fargo and even her second in command attempted to convince her otherwise. Daniel, at least, had the good sense to keep his mouth shut and offer his assistance. Zoe reappeared shortly before midnight, seeming more lighthearted and relaxed than she had when Jo had seen her last, though there was a bite and an edge to her laugh that Jo didn't recognize. She'd slipped in between her father and Jo on order to demand their presence at Cafe Diem, fixing her father with wide, pleading eyes before turning her attention to Jo and wrapping her hands playfully around Jo's forearm to herd her towards the door.

"C'mon, Jo, the party's practically over already. Vincent will be so disappointed if you miss it." Jo hesitated, dragging Zoe back slightly as she leaned into her heels and paused.

"I don't know..." She equivocated, glancing back to the room behind them, toward the hallway. She'd managed to put Zane out of her head for a few hours, and while she had been glad for the reprieve from her own thoughts, something tugged at her now. And yet...she looked back at Zoe, who was focusing all of her peculiarly manic energy on persuading Jo to join them at Cafe Diem.

"I'm going to go check on Zane," Jo said finally. "And then I'll meet you there." Zoe darted a glance to the other side of Jo, where Daniel stood quietly, his dark eyes on his sister. Jo was just turning to ask Daniel if he minded when Zoe cut in.

"I'll come with you," she said quickly, before turning to her father. "I can drive myself, Dad; I'll just meet you there." Carter eyed his daughter but ultimately opted not to comment, instead nodding and walking off, hands in his pockets as usual. Zoe pivoted on her heel and flashed Jo a brilliant smile.

"So! Let's get to the infirmary, then."

* * *

The excess energy with which Zoe seemed possessed stayed strong as the trio made their way down to the infirmary. Jo abandoned the other two as soon as she stepped foot in the infirmary, with her anxious eyes only for Zane. Daniel hovered by the door uncomfortably as Zoe took the first few steps into the room; she glanced back to look at him and rolled her eyes as she found him still hanging back at the threshold. Zoe looked around, and her eyes lit with wicked amusement as a nearby cot grabbed her attention. She took a few steps and hopped onto the bed, her green dress fluttering around her with the movement. Her feet hung a few inches above the ground.

"Wanna play doctor?" She suggested brightly, enjoying the look of a deer in headlights that flashed across Daniel's face before he steadied his expression. He took a few steps forward reflexively, moving further into the room.

"I - ah - " Zoe rolled her eyes dramatically.

"Relax, I'm kidding," she told him, a little scornfully. Daniel's lips tightened, but he said nothing. Zoe looked away, and just as suddenly as it had come, the savage energy that had been written into her eyes and posture all night dissipated. Her shoulders slumped, and she looked suddenly exhausted and a little fragile. Reflexively, she popped out her phone and checked the time. "Oh, hey," Zoe said, her voice soft and pleased. "Midnight." She looked up, her bow-shaped lips curving into a smile. "Merry Christmas," she told him, and Daniel could feel his frustration melting away.

"Merry Christmas," he replied. Zoe frowned and glanced at Jo.

"Vincent said he was shutting the cafe down at two," Zoe reminded him reluctantly. "Should we - should we tell her?" Daniel followed her gaze. Jo was sitting by the head of Zane's bed, his hand clasped in hers, speaking in low tones. He looked back at Zoe.

"No," he decided. "She should take all the time she needs." Zoe only nodded.

"Allison thinks he might wake up soon," she said optimistically. Daniel half-shook his head.

"He'd better," he said, his dark eyes fixed on his sister. An uncomfortable silence fell between them. Zoe fidgeted, toying with her hands as Daniel stared distantly across the room.

"Has Jo ever told you anything about our mother?" He asked finally.

"No," Zoe replied honestly. "I know she's - that she passed away. She's not a big sharer," Zoe smiled with amusement at the thought, but Daniel didn't share her amusement. He ran a hand over his face with a sigh.

"I didn't - she wasn't - " He frowned. "I don't remember her very well," he said finally. "After I was born, she wasn't... She wasn't happy." He blew out a long puff of air. "She killed herself when I was five," he told her.

Zoe froze, her eyes darting to his face, but he'd turned his gaze downward, to his hands.

"I'm so sorry," she said, stunned. His eyes shot up to hers, his expression looking oddly panicked.

"No, it's not - I - I mean, it's fine, I barely remember her, you know? I was five, after all. How much do you remember from when _you_ were five?" He said, his tone deceptively light, but the rapid, jerky motions of his eyes and the stiff way he held himself stood in sharp contrast to his words.

_Enough_, Zoe thought. _I remember enough. _But she let the moment pass without challenge. Some wounds, she knew, cut a little too deep and were a little too raw for casual interference. Daniel barreled ahead, taking her silence for acceptance and clearly wanting to distance himself from the previous line of inquiry as quickly as possible.

"Her death hit Jo hardest, I think," he continued. "She had only just turned ten, and she was the only girl." He shrugged regretfully. "I think Jo resents her a little, or she did. For leaving, you know," he clarified. He glanced back where Jo sat by Zane's bedside. "It's so much easier not to care about people," Daniel said softly. "I don't know how she'll handle it, if he doesn't make it. I don't know how many more people she can stand to lose." Zoe glanced down at her hands, biting her lip, then looked up again.

"She'd handle it the same way she always does," Zoe said in her most reassuring voice. "Shoulders back, chin up, keep moving forward." She turned her eyes back to the bedside scene across the room, and Daniel shot her a glance.

"She's not invincible, you know," he said reproachfully. Zoe kept her eyes fixed on Jo, who was just pushing herself up to a standing position from her seat by Zane's bed.

"Who is?" She murmured.

* * *

Later that night, long after the Christmas party at GD had subsided into a ghost town of tinsel and wreaths, Jo propped herself against the railing that delineated the otherwise unrecognizable patio outside Cafe Diem. The light flurries of the late afternoon had intensified over the evening, snow accumulating until Main Street had become nothing more than a sparkling white wasteland. If it hadn't been for the minor environmental disaster (by Eureka standards, at least) the heating systems in the smart pavement had caused over Thanksgiving, the snow would be long since melted and the roads clear, but for the time being the systems would remain offline until the project's primary scientists had adequately demonstrated an ability to prevent environmental disaster. Jo, for one, wasn't holding her breath. Some things, science couldn't reasonably control. Even in Eureka. The warm glow from inside Cafe Diem spilled through the door and windows onto the drifts accumulating against the railing. Jo found it serene, especially in contrast with the emotional turmoil she was keeping carefully contained within her.

"This place suits you." Jo jerked with surprise, first at the sound of another voice and then in response to having been caught by surprise at all. The voice was familiar, however, and when she turned Jo was not at all surprised to see her brother.

"What do you mean?" She finally asked as her mind caught up, processing the words she hadn't expected him to say. He spread his hands out before him in a gesture which read _how can I explain?_

"It suits you," he repeated. "I don't think I've ever seen you so relaxed." Jo opened her mouth to protest but Daniel cut her off. "I'm not saying you're not happy enough, at home, but I know you, Jo. You're always on guard around Dad and Rico and Gabe." He shrugged a little helplessly. "So am I." He reminded her, easing the half-frown on her face. "These people... You don't worry so much what they're going to think." Jo gave him a small smile.

"They're good people," she said quietly.

"They love you," Daniel said gently. Jo worried at her lip a little with her teeth and turned away, raising her eyes to the moon and the quiet descent of snowflakes. She said nothing.

"And you're _in_ love with one of them, aren't you?" He asked, not really expecting an answer. "The one in that hospital bed. Zane." Daniel watched Jo's fingers tighten on the railing, her knuckles whitening, and smiled to himself. "Congratulations, Jo." He told her sincerely. "And for the record - you're going to be a great Mom." A moment passed before Jo said, in a small voice:

"You think so?"

"I know so, big sister."

* * *

A/N: Ugh. I don't even have an excuse, guys. Straight up writer's block. I've been working on this chapter so long I can pinpoint actual months and weeks that each little breakthrough dates to. But! I have no intention of stopping, still, and I hope you'll still be willing to read. In the meantime, you might be interested to know that I've been working on some short stories in the 'Illuminated' 'verse, set in the future. There shouldn't be any major spoilers (except baby names!), so I think I'll post some soon. This means that any of you who a) would like to read these stories and b) would like to receive an alert to do so should click the "follow author" button if you haven't already.

Still not wild about this chapter, but... I hope you've enjoyed it!

ADM


	19. Chapter 19

Everything Is Illuminated

Zane woke into darkness.

In and of itself, that wasn't so strange. Life experience, and a lot of it, had honed Zane into the light sleeper he was today. He was accustomed to waking up in a dark bedroom when startled awake by, for instance, a far off car alarm. Or perhaps a minor explosion, which was in any case more likely in Eureka.

His present location, however, was dark in all the wrong ways. Everything felt just a little off - the bed seemed too stiff, the air smelled wrong, even the sounds around him were out of place - and he strained to remember where he had been last. He had a vague feeling - like a dream half-remembered - that he'd just been in the Sheriff's office, and there had been someone else with him - there had been something important - but the harder he tried to grasp the sensation, the further it seemed to drift away, and so instead he focused on his surroundings.

As he let his eyes adjust to the light, Zane began to recognize the relationship between the noises, which included the occasional beep, and the handful of small pinpricks of light scattered around the room. A heart monitor and other, less easily identified machines surrounded him. It could only be GD's infirmary.

Zane used his hands to push against the mattress, intending to push himself up and get a good look around, but a wave of vertigo hit him, forcing him to sink back against his pillow. He swallowed and winced; his throat was dry and raw, as if he'd shouted himself hoarse. Whatever it was he had done to land himself here, it seemed he had beaten himself up pretty good. Every muscle in his body ached. The question was, what _had_ he done?

A rustling noise to his right snapped Zane out of his thoughts, and he snapped his head toward the sound, regretting it immediately when he became faintly nauseated. The sight that met his eyes, however, left him ignoring his nausea altogether.

Jo lay on a cot next to him, curled around the clearly defined curve of her belly, breathing in the deep and even pattern of delta sleep. The sight of her brought his previously absent memories of events rushing in - his plan to restore memories of a past that never was, her departure, and his - experiment. He frowned as he realized the day of his experiment itself was nothing but a blur. He must have knocked himself out somehow. Zane ran a hand over his face and stubble scraped his skin, startling him. Too much stubble. He had assumed that he'd knocked himself out, high as a kite, but stubble like that wouldn't develop overnight, much less a few hours' time.

If Jo was here, there were only two explanations. Either he'd been out for long enough that Jo was already back from her weekend in Boston, or she'd been dragged back early because of his actions. Either way, he had an ear blistering lecture coming to him, that much was obvious.

But the stubble... He rubbed a thoughtful hand over his face again and peered at Jo through his fingers as he pulled his hand away, squinting at her belly. She'd been showing already when she left for Boston, of course, and the maternity clothes had only accentuated that bulge, but... had it really been that size when he'd last seen her?

There was a sinking feeling in Zane's stomach, the sort of which he was accustomed to after a long life of narrow escapes and disciplinary measures, the kind of sinking feeling that could only mean a prior mistake was coming back to haunt him. He stared blankly at the ceiling as he ran the variables through his mind, lightning-fast, but the answers were always the same.

Not even the adrenaline rush of comprehension could keep his eyes open, however, and Zane had only enough time to add that to his list of variables before he sank into a deep, healthy sleep.

* * *

It wasn't until a few hours after Zane had first woken that Jo caught a movement in the corner of her eyes from where he was lying prone in the bed. She was sitting in the same chair by his bedside where she'd been for the last week, and she was drifting off, her head propped up with one hand. She looked up to see Zane watching her, one eye cracked open cautiously.

"You going to pummel me if I wake up?" he joked quietly. "Because if that's the plan, I'd be happy to go back to sleep." She gaped at him for a moment, then shook her head in resignation.

"It's exactly what you deserve," she growled, but tears of relief were pricking her eyes. He reached out and grabbed at her hand.

"Hey," he said, voice raspy. "It's okay." His eyes met hers, looking genuinely concerned, and she bit her lip trying to keep the uncharacteristic tears from welling over and spilling down her face. She pulled her hand away and stood.

"Let me go get Allison," she said hastily, backing away from him, and his eyes widened when he got a good look at her, but she was gone before he could say anything. He raised his eyebrows and half-shook his head in amazement. When she reappeared through the door with Allison he didn't miss a beat before the questions began.

"How long have I been out?" He demanded, looking significantly at the substantial swell of Jo's stomach.

"You've been in an induced coma for – oh – a little more than a week, now," Allison explained distractedly as she tilted back his head, shining a light into his eyes.

"A week," Zane repeated, stunned. "No wonder you look so – y'know – " he gestured vaguely at Jo's waistline, but the IV lines held him back. Jo arched an eyebrow.

"So _what_, exactly?" Jo asked, warningly.

"Ah. Beautiful," he recovered, and gave her his most winning smile. She bit her lip and looked to Allison, avoiding his eyes. Still, he thought he could see the hint of a smile.

"You managed to put _yourself_ in a chemically induced coma," Allison said briskly, stepping back to study the monitors. "You started fighting the respirator yesterday afternoon – that's why your throat feels so raw, by the way." She shook her head. "You're lucky we found you in time to get you on the respirator in the first place, and _doubly _lucky to have woken up at all." She glanced down at her notes then looked back at Zane. "You should make a full recovery," she said, her voice softening as she looked at the pair. "But you're staying here until I say otherwise – you're going to be groggy, your body has been getting all its nutrition from an IV, and while you weren't out long enough to cause any muscle damage, you should be under supervision when you start walking again. In other words," she fixed her gaze on Jo, "_don't_ let him out of that bed without informing me first." She gave Jo a wry smile before striding away. Zane pouted from his hospital bed.

"Feel fine," he mumbled. Jo gave him a soft, affectionate smile and ran her hand through his hair, startling him.

"Sure you do," she teased, and watched as his eyes fluttered shut again. He blinked them back opening, struggling against the tide of exhaustion that had clearly swept over him.

"Jo – " he half-slurred, and Jo would have wondered if Allison had slipped something into his IV, had she not known how careful Allison was being about introducing more drugs into his system. She ran her fingers along his scalp, massaging gently, thinking absently about her own medical experiences. Zane made a small noise of contentment, something between a moan and a sigh.

"Shh," she said quietly. "Go to sleep. It can wait." In moments his breathing had slowed into a deep, even rhythm. Jo slid into her chair by the bed, her left hand still tangled in his hair, and tilted her head back, closing her eyes.

It wasn't long before she followed him into sleep.

* * *

Three days passed in much the same way. Allison was deadly serious about the concepts of "rest" and "taking it easy," and Jo, for reasons which were not immediately clear to Zane, had taken up Allison's cause with a zealotry that was, frankly, alarming. It was somewhere around the fifth pillow rearrangement over the course of an hour that Zane broke.

"Okay, okay," he grabbed her arm as she shoved at another pillow. "Hey. Jo-Jo. What's going on with you?" Jo let go of the pillow in favor of staring at him. A moment of silence passed.

"What's going on with me?" She asked, finally, and Zane winced at her incredulous tone. "What's going on with _me_?" This time she nearly hissed the words. Zane was about to backtrack when she squeezed her eyes shut and sighed. He could almost see the nervous, angry energy slip out of her. When she opened them again it was with an air of calm resignation.

Jo tugged her chair close to his bed, leaving about a foot of space between them, and took his hand. For a moment, she just studied it, tracing the lines of his palm. Zane couldn't help but wonder if it bore a similarity to the _other_ Zane's hand. Did they share scars, or was this just one more way she could map the difference between them? The thought made him feel a little hollow, and he suddenly regretted having said anything at all.

"Why did you do it?" She asked quietly. It didn't quite catch him off guard, not exactly, but it wasn't exactly a welcome question, either. His hand stiffened under hers, though he made no attempt to pull away.

"I left you a letter," he said shortly. Jo held his eyes with her own.

"I read it." She said, without elaborating.

"Then you know why," he replied, furrowing his brow. This time, he did try to pull away, but Jo held tight.

"But I don't _understand_," she said, searching his eyes. He dodged her gaze, lowering his eyes to the sheets. He muttered something which Jo couldn't make out, despite leaning in to hear him.

"What?" She said. Zane looked back up at her.

"I said, the Zane you left behind - he's the one you love. Not me. I'm just the placeholder." He kept his tone clinical, detached even, but Jo caught the shadow of pain behind his eyes.

"Zane," she breathed, horrified. For a moment, there was total silence as Jo struggled to find the words.

"It's not that _simple_," she said finally, locking his eyes with hers. "You're not just a - God, you're not just a _placeholder_!" Zane looked away.

"If you're not going to admit it to me, at least admit it to yourself, Jo," Zane said stubbornly. He tugged his hand away from hers harder this time, annoyed. Jo let him go, her own hand falling to her lap.

"Zane," she started, and then stopped. _Is that really what you think of me?_ She wanted to ask, but something held her back. She hadn't given him much reason to think otherwise, had she? She never talked about her life with the original timeline Zane, never talked about the future... never told him what he meant to her. She took a deep breath, biting her lip, and looked back at him, her heart racing in spite of herself.

"Zane," she said again, her voice steady this time. "Zane, look at me," she demanded. He did, warily. She leaned in, her eyes piercing.

"I _love_ you," she said. "And I _loved_ him." She rushed ahead, feeling exposed by the naked honesty in her words. "Look, I've had plenty of time to think since - since you - " Jo swallowed hard. "I've had a lot of time to think," she reiterated. "And it doesn't matter. From where I'm standing, _it doesn't matter_." She shook her head. Zane watched her closely, uncertain: she could see it in his eyes, and she found that, paradoxically, it made her all the more certain.

"I can't imagine there's any universe where I _don't_ love you, Zane." She said softly. Zane closed his eyes reflexively as her words sank in. He could feel the tightness in his chest ease, just a little bit. Opening his eyes, he watched Jo as she continued. "I should have told you that sooner," she said softly. "You've been incredible for the last few months. Well above and beyond the call of duty. You don't owe me anything. You could have walked away. You certainly didn't _need_ to commit yourself to m- us," she looked suddenly a little pink. Zane stared at her for a moment, before reaching over to take her hand again, his stiff muscles protesting at the movement.

"It didn't feel like a commitment," he said slowly. This time Jo was the one to stiffen and pull her hand back, stung. Zane sighed. "That's not what I meant, Jo." He told her tiredly.

"Then what did you mean?" She asked hollowly, curling her hand protectively over the bulge of her abdomen, as if she were shielding the life inside from his words.

"It felt... right. It didn't feel like I was taking on an unwanted responsibility. Granted, I wasn't crazy about some of the repercussions, but being with you? Protecting the baby? It felt like the most natural thing in the world, Jo." He looked up at Jo, sincerity written on his face.

"Not just _the_ baby, Zane," she reminded him softly. "_Our _baby." She didn't move, but her dark eyes shone back at him. Zane's lips quirked into a smile.

"Our baby," he agreed.

* * *

On the fourth day, Allison officially cleared Zane for visitors.

It started slow: a gradual trickle. Zane wasn't surprised when Carter made an appearance; the man spent nearly as much time in the infirmary as he did in his office after all. Maybe more. He'd seen Carter almost as many times this week as he'd seen Jo, and Jo slept in the cot next to him. And if on this particular day Carter ended up spending more time bugging Zane than his girlfriend, well, Allison was busy, after all.

Henry and Grace were the next to appear. Zane's heart sank when he saw Grace, but she was her usual, sunny self. One of his greatest regrets about his train wreck of a master plan was the way he'd risked Grace's project. But Grace didn't say a word - merely gave his ankle a reassuring squeeze while no one was looking. Zane gave her a hesitant smile in answer to the quiet benediction.

When Fargo appeared, helping Vincent with what was practically a buffet table worth of food, coincidentally consisting entirely of the non-solids to which Zane was still limited, Zane went from vaguely uncomfortable to outright suspicious. If this was some kind of intervention, he'd...well, there wasn't much he could do, trapped in Eureka as he was (now trapped in a hospital bed, no less), but he'd come up with something. And it wouldn't be pretty.

But Vincent merely appropriated a rolling medical tray or four, arranging them strategically around Zane's hospital bed, all the while expressing his relief at seeing Zane back with the living. Fargo took a seat by Jo, trying, and failing, to look comfortable in his surroundings. He gave Zane an awkward smile.

"Glad you're alive," Fargo blurted out suddenly, his words running together. Zane blinked and shot a quick look across the room to Jo, scrabbling for purchase on suddenly treacherous grounds. When he turned back to look at Fargo, however, his expression was carefully nonchalant.

"I'm not disappointed, myself," he said breezily, but something of his thoughts must have bled through into his voice, because he caught Jo giving him a sharp look from her end of the infirmary. Zane returned her gaze with a weak smile, and whatever it was she saw in his face, it was enough to reassure her. She turned back to her conversation with Grace, leaving Zane floundering. Fargo gave him what was probably intended as a friendly smile, but came out as more of a grimace, before his eyes wandered to the medical trays covered with food.

"Ooh! Banana pudding! And whipped cream!" Fargo scooped himself a bowl and ambled off, leaving Zane to his thoughts.

His first response when Fargo had appeared had been to tense up, prepared for a Director Fargo who was all but frothing at the mouth at Zane's latest indiscretion - the same Fargo he'd been handling for years now. Instead, he'd been faced with this quiet, awkward Fargo who quietly radiated concern for a colleague, if not a friend.

Concern for Zane.

These people weren't here to punish him, and they weren't just there to support Jo. They were there for him. For someone who'd spent the past two years of his life as something of a social pariah, that was - well, it was staggering.

Zane was grateful, then, for the distraction when Zoe appeared in the infirmary door, though he couldn't help flinching with apprehension. The last time he'd seen her, at Thanksgiving, she hadn't exactly been warm with him. Even so, her face lit up with relief when she caught sight of him from the infirmary door.

"Zane!" She was trailed across the room by a guy Zane thought looked vaguely familiar. Zane immediately identified the man as military and tensed, thinking of General Mansfield, but the expression on the other man's face was disarmingly discomfited instead of the typical military blank.

"I'm so glad you're awake!" Zoe exclaimed.

"Yeah, so am I." Zane replied absently, his body tense and his eyes still fixed on her tag-along. There was an awkward silence, during which Zoe glanced between the two men before venturing, warily, to speak. She picked her words carefully.

"You probably already know this - " _You are probably even responsible for this_ was heavily implied, " - but this is Jo's brother, Daniel." Zane was better than good at controlling his body language, but even he couldn't quite restrain the twitch of his body in response to the introduction. Zoe, demonstrating once more her possession of people-reading skills equal to those of her father, caught the hint of a flinch and promptly decided to excuse herself from the proceedings. _Carter: 1, Donovan: 0, _Zane reflected, resigned to his fate. Zane and Daniel eyed each other.

Daniel shifted on his feet before settling into Fargo's recently vacated chair.

"So," he said coolly.

"So," Zane echoed, buying time. When Zane had initially begun to plan for his ill-conceived attempt to manipulate the Akashic Field, he had accounted for three eventualities: the effective return of Jo's original timeline version of himself; his own death; and an anticlimactic, abject failure. He had neglected to consider the possibility that his failure would only _nearly_ cost him his life, setting all his plans into motion and out of control.

Therefore, in spite of his attempts to account for all possibilities, Zane found himself lying pale and shaky in a hospital bed with Jo's well-built, younger - but not smaller - brother looming over him menacingly. He'd sort of assumed that the original timeline Zane - the seemingly more tactful Zane who was, theoretically at least, more knowledgeable about Jo's family life - would be dealing with this.

If he'd taken the moment to consider the possibilities, he would've _hoped_ that the original timeline Zane would be dealing with this - and with good reason, as he himself was entirely at a loss for words.

"You're the man who knocked up my big sister," Daniel said, his voice neutral.

"That would be true," Zane said, watching the brawny younger man carefully. Daniel quirked an eyebrow, in a gesture eerily similar to his sister.

"And neglected to mention this to her family." He stated flatly. This time, Zane was the one to raise an eyebrow.

"You'll have to take that up with your sister." He said, his face guarded.

"Heard you haven't said a word to your own mother, either."

Zane wondered idly where he was getting his information.

"My mother is many things, but a font of parental wisdom she is not," Zane said wryly. "I'll tell her sooner or later."

"Jo seems happy." Daniel said. Zane blinked at the unexpected turn to the conversation, and scrambled for words.

"I - ah..." He glanced across the room, where Jo was talking to Allison. He caught her eye, and her face lit up in a brilliant smile that pulled Zane's heart straight into his throat. "I guess she is," he said, a hint of wonder in his voice. He turned back to Daniel, who was observing him with a carefully neutral expression.

"Good," Daniel said. There was a pause. Daniel leaned forward, propping his elbow on the arm of his chair. "So. Zoe tells me you've designed a _flying motorcycle_?" He asked, not bothering to hide his interest. Zane grinned.

"Well, actually, it's called a SkyCruiser…"

* * *

Across the room, Jo's efforts to focus on her conversation with Zoe were falling short. The younger woman was animated, recounting a fellow student's misadventures during one of her laboratory courses ("And for a moment there, I was so glad I wasn't still in Eureka, because you just _know_ that beaker would have blown up if we were!"), but easily more than half of Jo's attention remained on Zane. Ever since he'd woken up, she'd been hyper-attuned to his presence, as if every atom in her body was fixed in his direction. It wasn't doing wonders for her concentration, or her conversational skills.

Nor, it seemed , had it escaped Zoe's attention, as the gesturing and indeed the talking had stopped. She was giving Jo an amused look, and Jo turned faintly pink with embarrassment. She shifted uncomfortably on her feet.

"Sorry, Zoe, you were saying?" Zoe rolled her eyes.

"Go_,_" she said, jerking her chin in Zane's direction.

"No, Zoe, really, I –" Jo demurred. Zoe put her hands on her hips.

"_Go,_" she ordered. Jo bit her lip and cast Zoe a sideways glance.

"I'm really sorry – "

"Seriously, Jo, stop. You're pregnant, and he nearly died. I think you're entitled to be a little distracted." Jo opened her mouth again to argue, stopped, and shut it before giving Zoe an embarrassed smile.

"Thanks," she said, and cast Zoe one last sheepish look before making her way across the room. Zane and Daniel were deep into a discussion about the Tesla High student (Zoe's friend Pilar, if Jo wasn't mistaken) who'd made an honest-to-God invisibility cloak for her senior project this year. Both of them looked up as she approached, and Daniel surged out of the seat he'd taken by Zane's bed in order to offer it to her. Jo narrowed her eyes at his attempt to be chivalrous – she was pregnant, not dying – but took the seat offered to her because, well, she _was _pregnant, and if she was honest with herself, her feet were really starting to ache.

"Hey," she said, her eyes raking over his form.

"Hey yourself," Zane replied. He looked pale and drawn, more so than he had in the hours previous. Jo frowned.

"Are you sure you're up to this right now? Maybe it's time people headed home." As she spoke, Daniel made a quick and silent strategic retreat to the other side of the infirmary, where Allison, Carter, Henry and Grace had gathered.

"I'm fine," he defended. "Just a little tired." Jo took the opportunity to study him. His hair was ruffled, and paired with the sleepiness in his eyes made him look young and a touch vulnerable. For a moment, Jo could see him as the brilliant, defiant eight year old he'd once been. Then he flashed her a wicked smile, and the moment passed.

"You can always climb up here and give me a reason to stay awake," he suggested. Jo eyed him, recognizing his words for the deflection they represented. Rather than squirm under the scrutiny, he gave her a defiant look. Jo crossed her arms over her chest. _Well, two can play at this game. _She smirked at him, her eyes glinting with smug satisfaction, before she turned to call over Allison, eliciting a brief flash of alarm in his eyes. Allison approached them, looking suspicious.

"Is everything okay?" She questioned, eyeballing the two of them. Jo flashed her a bright smile. Zane narrowed his eyes.

"Everything is great, actually, Allison, but to be honest I'm completely exhausted. Sleeping for two, and all. Do you think you could get them to wrap things up?" She asked, all sweetness and light. For a second Allison just stared at her, unnerved by the sudden one hundred and eighty-degree turn in the behavior of her worst patient. Then she glanced at Zane, and back at Jo, eyes suddenly lit with comprehension. She smiled, and this time it was Zane's turn to be suspicious.

"Of course, Jo, it would be my pleasure." With one last amused look at Zane, she turned on her heel and left him to wonder what the hell had just happened.

* * *

After Jo spoke with Allison, effectively outmaneuvering Zane's half-hearted attempts to keep the party going and retain his pride, things began to move quickly. In almost less than a half hour, the food had been cleaned up and the small party worth of people had filed out of the infirmary. In short order Jo, and to a lesser degree Zane, were settling in for another long night of blinking lights and unexpected beeps. Jo moved an errant chair out of the way and began pushing her cot toward Zane's. Zane looked on, brow furrowed, radiating hesitant concern.

"Are you sure you should be doing that?" He asked, watching the way the movement tightened her shirt over her extended abdomen as she strained her arms and pushed.

She threw him an annoyed look.

"I'm fine, Zane. I only told them I was tired because you were too stubborn to admit you needed some rest!" _Pot, meet kettle,_ he sighed to himself as her dark eyes flashed at him from over the sheets.

"That's not really what I meant," was all he said. "Are you sure you should be moving that by yourself?" Jo rolled her eyes.

"I'm pregnant, not broken," she dismissed, giving the bed one final shove. She straightened up and stretched, rubbing out the kinks in her shoulders. Zane watched with interest as she perched on the edge of her bed and brushed out her long, silky hair before pulling it to one side and twining it into a simple braid. Jo looked up and caught him watching her.

"What?" She asked him, caught off guard. Zane shook his head.

"Nothing." He defended, but continued to study her. After a moment Jo began to shift uncomfortably under the scrutiny.

"Zane - " she began again, but he cut her off.

"Let's move in together," he said, suddenly. Jo stared at him, wide-eyed, until he took her silence as rejection and looked away. Then she found her voice.

"Your place or mine?" Zane whipped his head around to look at her. It was his turn to be speechless. She looked stiff: tense, but resolute. It took him a moment to guess why, and he grinned.

"Don't you worry, Josefina, I wouldn't dream of dragging you away from your precious dojo." She rolled her eyes at him, but from the way her shoulders relaxed, he could see it had been exactly the right thing to say. "I doubt we could fit a baby in my apartment anyway." He pointed out, more serious now. Jo looked vaguely disturbed.

"I hadn't even thought about that," she admitted. Zane gave her a smug look, the effect of which was somewhat ruined by a series of huge yawns.

"That's what I'm here for," he managed, between yawns. When he turned back to look at Jo again, she was already in the cot next to his, sheets pulled up around her. She gave him a soft, fond smile.

"I know," she said, and turned off the light.

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own Eureka. I don't own Harry Potter, either, and have no real reason why it showed up in this chapter's technological advancements, but it did.

A/N: I hope this suits you all, because I don't have anything I like better... At least I feel confident you'll be glad to see Zane awake again.:) I should admit I blurred the timeline a little bit to suit me this time, and also the details of Zane's coma are really only tenuously based on medical reality. But then that was always true (LSD overdoses are actually hugely rare because the lethal dose is so much higher than the effective dose... but I digress.). Happy season premiere day!

ADM


	20. Chapter 20

Everything Is Illuminated

The upside of being a pregnant woman and a recent coma patient, respectively, was that no-one, least of all the doctor in residence, was willing to let Jo and Zane move the entirety of Zane's apartment across town under their own power. Carter was (inevitably) the first person to get an inkling of their plans, and as far as Eureka was concerned, 'privacy' lasted exactly as long as the afternoon that passed before Carter had a chance to mention it to Henry. Then, Henry and Grace knew - then anyone who happened to eat lunch at Cafe Diem that day and so on, and so on.

The moment Allison caught wind of their plans, she flatly forbade Zane from lifting anything upwards of fifteen pounds on threat of another week spent as her 'guest' in the infirmary. As soon she was done with Zane, she hunted down Jo, who was handling paperwork in her office.

"Moving?" Allison asked her flatly, arms crossed over her chest. Jo barely glanced up from her paperwork.

"You did say you wanted Zane under supervision when you released him from the infirmary," she reminded her.

"Jo, you're six months pregnant. You shouldn't be dragging furniture and heavy boxes across Eureka."

"Good, because we'll be driving them, actually."

"_Jo_," Allison said sharply, and Jo looked up. The frustration written across her face was hard to miss.

"What do you want me to say, Allison? That I'll just sit back and enjoy the view while everyone else moves Zane into my - our," she corrected hesitantly, "house? You were the one who told me I could keep exercising. I do lift weights, you know." Jo turned her eyes back down to her paperwork, her lips still twisted into a moue of annoyance.

Allison pinched the bridge of her nose between thumb and forefinger, feeling a headache coming on.

"Lifting weights in a controlled environment is not at all the same as handling boxes with weight shifting inside, or handling unstably packed furniture - " Allison cut herself off suddenly, staring at Jo, who was pointedly not meeting her gaze. "But I think you've already realized that." She narrowed her eyes. "There are easier ways to ask for help, you know."

"I'll keep that in mind for next time," Jo replied, her tone entirely neutral but for the hint of amusement underneath.

"If there's a next time, I'm giving you up for a loss and moving to Kansas." Allison muttered under her breath, and beat a hasty retreat.

* * *

Despite Allison's exasperation, when Zane was released later that week there was a small crew of movers arranged to meet them at his apartment. This was why Jo nearly jumped out of her skin with surprise when she opened her front door to find Carter, Zoe and her brother lounging in her living room. Fortunately, she managed to regain her equilibrium before Carter could have the satisfaction of knowing he'd caught her off guard. Behind her, she could hear Zane snicker softly, and she whipped around to glare at him.

"Not a word," she hissed. He put his hands up in a mockery of a good faith gesture.

"Wouldn't dream of it, your worship." Jo reminded herself how glad she was to see him up and on his feet.

"So! Where should we start?" Carter asked, laughter in his eyes as he watched the two of them. Jo huffed at him with relatively good-natured annoyance.

"You realize we already have movers coming?" Carter shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged.

"Somebody has to make sure you two crazy kids don't get in trouble." Jo just looked at him.

"Allison sent you." She stated. He grinned and nodded.

"Yeeah, Allison sent me." Jo shook her head.

"What about you two?" Daniel crossed his hands over his chest and tried to look forbidding.

"Chaperone," he said brusquely. Jo rolled her eyes before turning to Zoe.

"And you?" Zoe flashed her a bright smile.

"Beats writing papers," she said flippantly. Carter looked as if he would like to argue that point, but Jo cut him off.

"Well, the movers should be at Zane's place in a few hours, so we were about to go over and get everything packed. If you could just give us a moment, we'll be ready to go."

* * *

About a half an hour later, Jo stood in Zane's den, feeling overwhelmed. To be honest - aside from her conversation with Allison and the subsequent arrangements for the movers - Jo hadn't given much consideration to the details of moving Zane into her house. Until their discussion in GD's infirmary, it had barely even occurred to her that either of them would be sharing living space with an infant in only two months. She already _had_ furniture. What were they going to do with Zane's?

Jo pressed a hand to her temple, feeling a headache coming on.

"Stop that," murmured a low voice from behind her, followed by a warm kiss pressed to the column of her neck. Zane's hands wrapped around her and settled comfortably just over her belly button.

"Stop what?" She asked absently. Zane's mouth crept a little higher, this time to the delicate skin of her earlobe. He nipped sharply and Jo shivered despite herself before elbowing him.

"_You_ stop," she admonished. "Someone could walk in here any moment." Zane chuckled but pulled away.

"Stop worrying," he clarified. His hand lingered on her stomach for a moment longer before he stepped back. "It's all just things. You remember what it was like when I came to Eureka - well," he laughed, "I guess you don't - "

"Zane!" Jo hissed, her eyes darting to the door behind them.

"Anyway," Zane continued, grinning at her unrepentantly, "I didn't have much of anything. I'm used to being able to pick up and go." He shrugged. "Furniture is furniture. I've never really needed," he waved a hand dismissively, "y'know - stuff."

Jo gave him a half-amused, half-exasperated smile.

"Stuff," she repeated, eyebrows raised. He laughed and pulled her back toward him.

"Yes, _stuff_," he said playfully. "Don't you look at me in that tone of voice." Jo's eyes crinkled at the corners with amusement. Zane smiled back at her, but his eyes were suddenly serious.

"The thing is, Jo," he said, his voice lowering. "All I really _need_ in that house is you." His eyes drifted down to the curve of her stomach where it pressed against him. "Both of you," he said softly. "Everything else is just - details."

Jo raised a hand to cup his cheek gently, her thumb rubbing circles over the stubble of his cheek. She leaned up to kiss him, and when she pulled back he held her close, his forehead pressed to hers.

"Feeling better now?" He murmured. She grinned.

"I don't know, maybe you should - " A startled exclamation from the doorway stopped her short.

"Oh!" Zoe squeaked. Jo jerked away from Zane, remembering belatedly where they were. Zoe turned slightly pink.

"Sorry - um - I should just - " Jo ran a hand through her slightly mussed hair and gave Zoe an embarrassed smile.

"No, Zo, it's fine. What did you need?" Zoe bit her lip.

"Well, we were wondering what you wanted from the kitchen..." Zoe trailed off, giving Jo a questioning look.

"Um..." Jo glanced at Zane, then back at Zoe, who shifted uncomfortably on her feet. "I'll be right in," she said. Zoe nodded and disappeared through the doorway. Jo smiled wryly and pressed a kiss to the corner of Zane's mouth.

"I should..." He nodded towards the door.

"Go," he said. She made it a few steps before his voice stopped her.

"Jo," he said. She turned back to glance at him questioningly.

"Just details," Zane reiterated, his eyes holding hers steadily, his eyebrows raised slightly for emphasis.

Jo gave him a small smile.

"Just details," she agreed, and left the room, the smile lingering on her lips.

* * *

About half an hour later, Zoe pinned down Jo again, this time for completely different reasons. Jo was standing in the hallway, one eye and one ear monitoring a heated debate between Daniel and Zane regarding the 'appropriate' packing of his electronics. Neither party would thank her for interfering, she knew, so with no small effort she managed to stay out of the room and hold her tongue.

"Hey, Jo?" Zoe asked her. Jo only half-attended to her words.

"Hmm?" Jo responded, noticing nervously a sudden silence from the room containing her... boyfriend, and brother.

"So, I was talking to Allison the other day, and she was saying we ought to throw you a baby shower."

"Mmmmhm - " Jo stopped short to stare at Zoe. "What?" She asked blankly.

"Do you want a baby shower?" Jo's eyes went wide.

"Oh, hell no," she blurted out, then looked chagrined. Zoe laughed.

"I didn't think so," the younger woman assured her.

"It's just... a big event like that..."

"…is kind of asking for trouble around here? God, you're getting as bad as my dad." Zoe sounded amused. "You know, Murphy's law is a concept, not an absolute rule." Jo grimaced and muttered something unintelligible. Zoe grinned.

"Well then, I'll be sure to let them know," she said, pressing herself against the wall by Jo to let Zane and Daniel pass with the boxes of electronics. Jo gave Zoe an appreciative smile.

"Thanks," she said. A moment passed, and a shout came from the front of the house.

"The movers are here!" Jo exchanged a look with Zoe.

"Here comes the fun part," she said, eyebrows raised. "Shall we?" Zoe cocked her head and grinned.

"We shall," she said playfully, peeling away from the wall and heading down the hallway, pausing only long enough for Jo to do the same.

* * *

Moving, like so many things in Eureka, was simultaneously quite simple and very complicated. The movers arrived with what were effectively adhesive hover pads, at least as far as Jo could tell. On one hand, it did take much of the physical strain and exertion out of the process. On the other hand, it was yet another prototype. Jo found herself spending as much time eying the boxes to make sure they didn't start floating away as she did directing the movers.

Somehow - for once - things proceeded without mishap. Jo suspected that this only meant the fates were saving up for a big one, one of these days. She eyed her brand new house and shivered a little at the thought before climbing the brick path to the front door.

The inside of her home was the very picture of precariously-controlled chaos. Boxes were being floated every which way. Zane paused in his role as director just long enough to flash a distracted smile at Jo. One of the movers noticed Jo's presence and sidled up to her.

"Excuse me, Ms. Lupo, but we also have a delivery for you." Jo turned her attention to him, frowning with puzzlement.

"A delivery?" The team Allison had arranged for the move was typically responsible for the transportation of proprietary technology and restricted substances to and from GD, but given the top-secret nature of the town they also handled more ordinary tasks that involved crossing town lines - such as postal work and deliveries. Jo tried to remember what it was she might be expecting, but nothing came to mind.

"Yes, ma'am, it's in the truck still, if you could just follow me." He requested politely. Jo blinked.

"Of course," she said. He gave her an acknowledging nod and strode out the door. Jo followed, racking her brains as they descended the brick steps once more.

She remembered the crib and changing table only seconds before she saw them.

"Oh," she breathed, so quietly that the man beside her almost missed it entirely. He cleared his throat.

"Would you like us to bring it in, Ms. Lupo?" He asked respectfully.

"Yes, of course," she said, her eyes still fixed on the crib. She dragged her gaze away with difficulty to glance at the man beside her. "If you could just put them in the spare room at the end of the hall..." She trailed off. He nodded at her.

"I'll get someone on it," he said firmly. There was a pause as he seemed to be debating with himself internally. "May I just say, congratulations?" He said finally.

Jo stared at him, startled.

"Thank you," she managed, not sure what else to say. She looked back towards the house. "I should, um..." She trailed off. He gave her an understanding smile.

"No problem," he said. He nodded his head toward the house. "Go ahead."

Jo gave him one last grateful smile before walking back toward the house, steeling herself for the chaos inside.

* * *

The hubbub at the house began to die down after the movers left and what was remained of their moving endeavor was merely the unpacking of boxes. Jo slipped away once she was certain people had settled into their tasks, into the still relatively empty spare bedroom. _The baby's room_, she reminded herself, rolling the words around in her head as if to see how they tasted. She ran a hand over the sleek mahogany of the crib, biting her lower lip thoughtfully.

Jo had grown accustomed to living without her mother years ago - before her death, even. Eleni Lupo had always seemed fragile to Jo, even during the good times when there had been ballet recitals and homemade Halloween costumes. Jo's strongest memory of her mother was of the delicate, bird-like hands that had repaired those tutus and pieced together those costumes as if by magic. Daniel, she knew, barely remembered their mother at all. Jo remembered the good and the bad: days spent baking and vacations at the beach but also days where their mother couldn't even get out of bed. But the most important thing Jo remembered was the way she'd loved them. That, at least, Jo wanted to pass along to her own children.

She rubbed a tentative hand over her increasingly large belly. She was used to life without her mother, yes, but every once in a while there would come a day like today and she would feel the loss freshly. And she couldn't help but feel just a little deprived, every time she found herself at the brink of one of these major life events.

"I could have used a little advice right about now, Mom," she murmured. The baby kicked and Jo chuckled slightly, pressing her hand to the approximate point where she'd felt it.

"You," she whispered, feeling silly immediately and choosing to ignore it, "are loved." She stared out into the room, her nose crinkling thoughtfully as she considered the combination of the mahogany furniture with the beige walls. "Not exactly baby colors, is it?" Jo reflected. She felt the baby kick from inside and grinned. "I'll take that as a yes." She cocked her head. "If only I knew whether you were a boy or a girl," she lamented. "Maybe green..." She murmured thoughtfully. "Nice and neutral, and we can always add a color..."

Jo leaned back against the nearby wall, her gaze drifting back to the crib. She bit her lip slightly before reaching into her pocket and pulling out her phone, which she eyed as though it might bite at any moment. She slid down the wall and onto the floor, shifting her phone from one hand to the other as she deliberated. She pulled up a number from the address book, hesitating before she finally hit the dial button.

The phone rang once, twice, and then she heard a tell-tale click at the other end of the line. Jo smiled tentatively, her hand plucking nervously at the fabric of her pants.

"Hi, Dad," she said.

* * *

It was a long time before Jo rejoined Zane and the others in the living room, though it had certainly never been her intent to abandon them to the unpacking. Something about moving a crib into what was formerly her spare bedroom had reinforced the need to come clean to her family in a way that even her brother's arrival had not.

Daniel, closest to the hallway, gave her a quizzical look when she walked in.

"Where have you been?" He asked, eying her drawn expression. She gave him a lackluster smile.

"Talked to Dad," she said, by way of explanation. Daniel eyed her warily.

"How'd that go?" He asked. Jo shrugged.

"About how you would expect," she sighed. "He wanted to know why I hadn't told him sooner, and I – "

"I wouldn't mind knowing that myself," Daniel interrupted, eyebrows raised. Jo gave him a startled look, almost as if she had forgotten who she was talking to. She shook her head slightly – not so much in denial as in an attempt to jump start her brain. Fortunately for her, Zane chose that moment to interrupt.

"Is everything okay?" He asked Jo, his blue eyes dark with worry. Jo gave him a wan smile.

"Just tired," she assured him. Her eyes lit upon Daniel only briefly before she turned to survey the room. Hints of Zane's presence were everywhere. It was odd, Jo mused, how effortlessly it all fit in – she'd never thought of her new home as sparse, but Zane's belongings seemed to fill up empty spaces that Jo had never even realized were there.

Zane still looked concerned.

"I think we've just finished up, Jo-Jo, if you want to go lie down." Jo almost felt, rather than saw, the look on her brother's face when Zane called her 'Jo-Jo.' There would be no coming back from that one. Jo grimaced.

"I'll be fine," she insisted. Carter, who had been watching them from the couch, stood up and ventured over.

"Well I, for one, am _exhausted_," he announced cheerfully. "In fact, I think it's about time we got going. Don't you, Zoe?" He asked, pointedly. His daughter gave him an amused look.

"Oh, yes," she said dryly. "I think I might just pass out on the kitchen floor."

"I'm with the Sheriff," her brother chipped in unexpectedly. Jo's eyes widened and she turned on her heel to direct her most intimidating stare in his direction. He smirked. "I'm still getting used to this time zone, after all."

"It's been weeks!" Jo hissed at him, but he and the others ignored her, wandering her living room and gathering up their coats and assorted hats and mittens. Jo gave a half-laugh, half-sigh.

"Thanks," she said, shaking her head. "I'm glad we had you here to help."

"If there's anything else I can do to help, Jo, all you need to do is ask," Zoe reminded her, pulling on her cherry red down jacket. "I'll be here for almost a month."

Daniel lounged against one of the couches, his winter coat already zipped up.

"Well, you know I'll be around," he said wryly. "Unless the Department of Defense develops a sudden, unexpected need for my assistance," he added, with a pointed look at Zane, who had the decency to appear faintly abashed.

"Actually," Jo said slowly. "There is something you could do." She licked her lips, seeming nervous. The motley assortment of volunteers watched her curiously. "I'm sure I'm not supposed to be painting," she continued, in response to their inquisitive looks, "but the baby's room. It needs repainting."

"Jo, this is a brand new house," Zane pointed out. "The paint is fine." She gave him an embarrassed look.

"Yes, but..." She trailed off. "It's, you know, not really the right color for a kid?" she pointed out. Jo met Zoe's eyes. "It would go faster with the both of you," she added, hopefully. Zoe shrugged.

"Sure, sounds great," she said, glancing swiftly at Daniel. Jo followed her gaze, and had to stifle a laugh at the mixed emotions flickering across her brother's face. No doubt he was discovering the way Carters grew on you, much as she had four years ago. It was cruel, perhaps, but Jo found she couldn't muster up much sympathy for him. She'd survived just fine, hadn't she? She grinned.

"Perfect. I'll have some paint ready for you by the end of the week."

* * *

Much later that night, Zane found himself suddenly and unexpectedly awake. Jo was curled up beside him, her back to him. He lay in bed and blinked, his eyes adjusting slowly to the half-light of Jo's - his, he reminded himself, not for the first time that day. His bedroom. _Their_ bedroom, a concept that still felt entirely foreign to him. Zane supposed it was the sort of thing that just took time. But time he had - and, oh, how he still found himself shying away from the enormity of it all, the idea of entire years, hell, _decades_ with Jo stretching out in front of him. It was like standing by the ocean, seeing that line where the water and the sky seemed to end, but never did. Vast. Infinite. And a more than a little terrifying.

Zane flipped to his side, facing Jo, and wrapped an arm cautiously over the valley that had formed between her breasts and the rise of her belly. Her frame seemed tense, he noticed immediately, and as he sharpened his focus he caught her making a small noise of distress.

"Jo," he whispered, concerned. She didn't respond, reinforcing his suspicion that she was still sleeping. "Jo, wake up." It wouldn't be the first time he'd caught her in the midst of a bad dream. He'd learned quickly to let her take the lead. It was dangerous to startle her, to say the least.

Jo was breathing rapidly, now, and Zane propped himself up with one hand before he raised the hand draped over her to grasp her shoulder hesitantly.

"Jo," he called her again, and shook her gently. This time her eyes flew open, with a startled gasp. For a moment it was silent, with only Jo's ragged breathing filling the space between them. Then:

"Zane?" Her voice was uncharacteristically small.

"I'm here, Jo," he assured her. She rolled over, careful of her belly now instead of the smooth, confident movements he was used to. Zane was surprised when she tucked herself into his side, flush against his body, her forehead pressed into his chest, the jut of her belly creating the only space between them. He thought she might be trembling faintly. He wrapped the arm not propping him up over her side again, this time rubbing her back soothingly. The small shudders faded, replaced by such stillness that for a moment he thought she had fallen back to sleep, until she pulled herself up to press a warm, open-mouthed kiss on his lips. Caught off guard, it took Zane a minute to respond, and by the time he had she'd already slid her left leg between his, her toes curling against one of his calves.

"Jo," Zane protested, unnerved by the sudden change in mood. There was something alarmingly urgent, almost desperate about her kisses. She was nearly straddling him when Zane finally got control of himself and pushed her gently back onto the bed.

"Jo, stop." She stiffened and rolled until her back was to him. Zane exhaled softly, falling onto his back and running a hand through his hair.

"Jo," he said, imploringly.

"You were dead," she whispered, so quiet that he almost missed it entirely. The words hit him like a slap to the face. Jo, in her distress, missed his sharp intake of breath. He turned onto his side and reached for her, coaxing her toward him until, with a small sigh, she turned over and back into his arms. He rested his chin lightly against her silky crown of hair, and his hand slipped to her lower back, rubbing small circles.

"Hey," he whispered. "I'm here, I'm okay." Jo let out a deep, shuddering sigh, her breath warming his chest. Zane thought he could feel her muscles start to unclench. "I'm not going anywhere, Jo."

"You don't know that," she murmured, finally glancing up from where her face was pressed to his chest. The tone of her voice was regretful, but matter-of-fact. Zane pulled back.

"Jo - " he started to argue, but she shook her head, the tips of her hair brushing across his bare chest and making him shiver reflexively.

"No. This is Eureka. Things will never go the way we plan."

"Jo - " he tried again, but he stopped short when she pulled back, pressing a hand against his chest. Even in the half-light of their bedroom, her gaze was intense.

"Promise me, Zane." She said urgently, and he furrowed his brow in sudden confusion.

"What - "

"Promise me you won't put yourself in danger like that again." She didn't have to clarify. It was obvious this wasn't just about the nightmare anymore. Zane shook his head, frustrated.

"Jo, you said it yourself, this is Eureka. I can't control what happens, any more than you can." She swallowed hard, and nodded. For a moment, neither of them said anything.

"Then promise that - that you'll be careful. That you'll do whatever you have to do, to make sure you come home at night. Promise to come home to me, Zane." Zane's chest felt suddenly tight. He pulled Jo back into his arms, resting his chin on her head.

"I promise," he said.

This time, when she kissed him, he didn't pull away.

* * *

It was the next evening when the inevitable call finally came, and Jo was the one with the dubious honor of answering it. Unfortunately, that only confused things.

She'd been in the midst of a particularly intense contemplation of the leftovers currently in their fridge - should she eat the peanut chicken stir fry and the curried bananas, or the steak tips? What if the baby had a peanut allergy? Was Zane allergic to anything other than penicillin?

It was almost a relief when the phone rang, Still, Jo nearly jumped out of her own skin, and she did manage to send her Seltzer water flying the moment she reached for the phone.

"Hello?" She answered, and dove after the Seltzer, watching in dismay as the fuzzy drink spread across the counter. "Shit," she muttered.

"Zane?" Asked a female voice from the other end of the line, sounding confused. Jo grabbed a handful of paper towels and started mopping up.

"No, actually, he's out in the garage. I can go get him if you'd like." Jo said, only half listening. She winced as she saw the carbonated liquid dripping off the counter and onto the floor.

"I - garage? Who is this?" The woman on the other end asked. Jo paused, suddenly certain she knew that voice.

"Let me just get Zane for you," she said hastily, and beat a quick retreat to the garage.

Zane took one look at her expression when she entered the garage, and his hands stilled on the motorcycle.

"What's wrong?" He asked quickly. "Is it the baby?" Jo waved her hands at him frantically in that universal sign for _shut up, shut up, shut up_!

"It's your mother!" She half-hissed, half-mouthed. For a moment, Zane just stared at her blankly. "You know, the one you _still haven't told_!" He opened his mouth, ready to point out that _she_ was one to talk, having only spoken to her father the night before - and hadn't _that_ been a good time - then closed it again. It was probably not really the right moment for that debate.

Might as well resign himself to his fate. Zane reached out a wordless hand for the phone. Jo disposed of it with more haste than she would a viper, the coward, vanishing from the garage with incredible speed (if not grace). Zane was left standing alone in the garage, grease all over his hands, and now the phone. He winced as he lifted it to his ear.

"Hey, Mom." He said. Eileen Donovan was not so much indignant as perplexed when she replied.

"Zane, what on earth is going on? First you don't answer your phone for a week, then when you finally call you leave a message with a whole new number - are you in some kind of trouble? Again?"

Zane chuckled, which in hindsight probably wouldn't reassure her at all.

"Nothing like that," he told her. "Ah - so how is the semester going?"

"The semester is going well, and stop deflecting, Zane Michael." Zane screwed up his face in distaste. His mother continued. "Who was that woman, and why is she answering your phone?"

"Ah. Well." He said awkwardly. "It _is_ her phone too." He tried. There was a long pause.

"You're - living together?" His mother asked, slowly.

"Yeees," Zane said, drawing out the word as he considered the best way to go about explaining. Obviously there were some key details he couldn't share - and he really had no desire to get into his recent coma experience with her - but there was one obvious detail in need of discussion. He frowned.

"Zane?" His mother sounded wary. She, not unlike the woman who'd only just fled the garage, knew that a quiet Zane was a dangerous Zane. Most of the (relatively minor) explosions in his house growing up had been preceded by unusually restful afternoons. Shortly before the first time the FBI had hauled him out of class in handcuffs, there had been an entire week worth of peace and quiet. Eileen Donovan had learned to fear such silences.

"The thing is," he began, before quieting again. "How do you feel about grandchildren?" He asked, finally.

"Like I could use a second chance to instill a love of literature in another generation of Donovans," she said drily. Zane grinned.

"Hey, I liked - " She cut him off.

" - the naughty bits in Chaucer, yes, dear, I have not forgotten the horror of your education just yet. Might I know the _name_ of the mother of my grandchild?" She inquired pointedly. Zane hesitated.

"Jo Lupo," he said finally. There was a small pause.

"Jo Lupo?" His mother repeated. "The security chief you spend all your time ranting about?" It was hard to miss the amusement in her voice.

"You're taking this very well," Zane said, slightly disgruntled. She laughed.

"Sweetheart, you could knock me over with a feather." She assured him. "I certainly never thought I'd be seeing a grandchild anytime soon. When is she due?" His mother asked.

"Mid-March," he admitted.

"Been trying to figure out what you're going to say for a while, have you?" Zane turned a delicate shade of pink only his mother could drag out of him.

"I was working on it," he grumbled. He could almost hear her smiling tolerantly from the other end of the line.

"That's good, dear." Her tone finally turned chiding. "Now, I had better be getting a call from you in mid-March, you hear me? Not mid-April, not _May_ - " Zane cut her off.

"I get it, Mom."

"Well, then," she said briskly. "If that's all, I have final papers to mark. Grades are due in a week, you know." Zane raised an eyebrow, unsurprised. Dr. Eileen Donovan always had papers to read, end of the semester or not.

"That's all that comes to mind," he drawled, a hint of sharpness to his tone. Eileen sighed but declined to comment.

"Goodbye, Zane," she told him, firmly, and after a pause, added, "Congratulations." Zane blinked, startled.

"...thanks," he replied, and hung up.

For a moment, Zane just stood there, pondering the phone in his hand. He was faintly surprised she'd called at all. It wasn't as if she were an absentee parent, strictly speaking - certainly not to the degree of his father, whom he had not seen since he was six - but she was no helicopter parent, either. She had agreed to send him on to college and independence at a young age, and neither of them had really looked back. Or at least, neither of them had ever admitted to it.

Zane pursed his lips and wiped both his hands and the phone on a handy rag before leaving the garage. He found Jo in the kitchen watching the microwave. She had her back to him, but clearly wasn't startled in the slightest when he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. Instead, she sighed and dropped her head back against his chest as he traced the burgeoning expanse of her stomach.

"Are you sure you don't have eyes in the back of your head?" Zane murmured into her ear. He could feel the muscles in her cheek as she smiled, though based on the tone of her voice and the tension in her muscles, it was a half-hearted one.

"What did she say?" Jo asked, ignoring his comment entirely and cutting straight to the heart of the matter. Zane gave a dramatic sigh.

"That she'll have our child reading Dostoevsky by ten," he lamented. Jo processed his words. This time, he thought, the smile was a genuine one.

"Let's hope she holds off on Palahniuk until he's at least fifteen, then." Zane gave a startled chuckle.

"We can only hope," he agreed readily, pressing his face into her hair - that familiar scent of citrus and gunpowder. Zane smiled.

"I love you, Jo-Jo," he told her, and she twisted in his grip to face him, cupping his face gently between her hands and leaning in to kiss him.

"I love you too." Behind them, the microwave beeped pointedly. Neither of them noticed.

* * *

The end of the week found Daniel waiting impatiently for Zoe in the living room of S.A.R.A.H. They were due at Jo's house in - he checked his watch - twenty minutes now, and they were stopping to get food on the way.

"Zoe?" He called up the stairs, tentatively.

"Geez, don't get your panties in a twist," she bounded down the stairs in overalls, a white t-shirt and - Daniel stared - an honest to God bandana tied over her hair, which she'd pulled into tiny little pigtails for the occasion.

Zoe grinned.

"What?" She said, certain she knew exactly what he was thinking. "You like?" She twirled around, smirking.

"It's January. You're going to freeze." He raised his eyebrows, giving her a skeptical look. She scoffed at him as she sailed past - to the closet, to get her jacket. "I mean, inside the house," he clarified. "We need to keep the windows open, assuming you want to keep any of your brain cells. Haven't you ever painted before?" She popped out of the closet in a parka that made the bandana look even more ridiculous.

"Of course," she said dismissively, which was a complete lie, as she'd never in her life painted anything bigger than a jewelry box. She gave him a wicked grin. "But, you know, I've got to look the part. Anyways, I'm sure we'll build up some body heat with all that painting. Door, S.A.R.A.H." She turned and walked out. Behind her, Daniel twitched - there was really no other word for it - and he shook his head briefly as if he were actively attempting to dislodge thoughts from it, before following her out the still-open door and into the chilly air.

* * *

It ended up taking them thirty minutes, rather than twenty, to make their way across town to Jo and Zane's.

"You're late," Zane said without looking up from his laptop. Zoe narrowed her eyes, taking in the scene - recovering coma patient lying on the couch in his robe, feet propped up on the arm of the couch and the remnants of a meal on the coffee table next to him.

"Nice to see you too, princess," she said, eyebrows raised, heading across the room to the attached kitchen. She stuck their take-out bag into the fridge and turned back toward the living room, leaning on the kitchen counter.

"Allison told me to take it easy," Zane said, by way of explanation, but closed the laptop and placed it by the empty plate before getting off the couch. "Paint's this way," he said, gesturing for them to follow him down the hall.

"Woah," said Zoe, when he opened the door at the end of the hall.

The floor of the nursery was completely papered from wall to wall with newspaper. Around the room, the edge where floor and wall met was sealed with a thick line of blue tape.

"What's all this?" Daniel asked. Zane looked exasperated.

"As it turns out, Jo is not so good at the taking it easy," he sighed. Daniel's lips twitched as if he were holding in a grin.

"No," he agreed, but didn't elaborate. Zane gave him an unamused look.

"Jo got primer, some white and this - green - " he prodded the paint can with his toe and gave it a dubious look. "She said to keep the moldings white." He raised his eyebrows at them. "Better you than me," he said, unrepentantly, before vanishing through the open door. Zoe rolled her eyes and crouched next to the cans of paint. She poked at a lid.

"How do you even open these?" She wondered, before she remembered who she was with and snapped her mouth shut. She gave Daniel a guilty look.

His attempt at righteous indignation fell flat in the face of her sheepish expression.

"...you've never painted a wall in your life, have you?" Zoe shrugged, faintly embarrassed.

"I grew up in an apartment in LA and then I moved to a crazy sentient underground bunker. There was never really an opportunity." Daniel snorted, turned his back on her and walked out, stepping through the open doorway. Zoe rocked back on her heels, slightly crestfallen. She'd sort of thought, after the past few weeks - but it was obvious he wasn't interested in a friendship with the silly little girl who tailed his sister like a lost puppy. Zoe scowled and stood up. Fine. That was fine. She'd just - go tell Zane she couldn't do this, and that they'd have to arrange for a team from GD -

Daniel reappeared through the door with two warm, damp washcloths, and a small bucket of water. She froze, staring at him. He shrugged, a gesture which made him seem immediately younger, and less strait-laced military.

"We should probably start by wiping down the walls," he explained. "We don't want the primer getting any dirt in it." HR held out a washcloth. Zoe swallowed once, hard.

"Yeah," she said. "Yeah, of course." She stared at the washcloth in her hand. _Huh_.

* * *

Across the house, the front door opened to admit a tired looking Jo, with her own take-out containers, fresh from Cafe Diem.

"Are Zoe and Daniel here?" She asked Zane, stifling a yawn behind one hand. Zane frowned.

"They're here," he said dismissively, all of his attention focused on her. "Are you okay? Come sit down." Jo joined him on the couch without argument, which in and of itself alarming. She yawned again, this time not bothering to hide it.

"I can't seem to stay awake," she admitted. "He was pummeling my insides all night, after we..." She waved a hand, uncomfortable rehashing the emotional conversation from the night before. "Y'know," she said lamely.

"Oh, I know," he said, voice suddenly low as he wrapped and arm around her and pressed a warm kiss to the juncture of her jaw and her neck. Jo laughed breathily.

"Zane," she protested weakly, aware of Zoe and her brother down the hall - quite possibly the two people she least wanted to walk in on them. After all, poor Zoe had already been subjected to that once this week.

"What's the matter, Jo?" He murmured, his voice rumbling against her where she was pressed against his chest. His hands wandered south. "Worried about your - "

"Oof!" she said suddenly, stiffening. Her hand slid down to the large curve of her belly reflexively. "Ugh, I think that was my kidney..." It met Zane's hand, frozen in place on her abdomen. She pulled back to look at him -

"Zane?" She asked, perplexed.

- but his arms tightened, holding her in place.

"I felt it," he said, his voice hushed. His hand started to rub slow circles over her belly. Jo watched, mesmerized, feeling voiceless and breathless, her chest tight with emotion. She finally managed a deep, shuddering breath.

"Zane..." She said, and trailed off, watching as his hand continued to glide back and forth, back and forth over the fabric of her blouse. She leaned into him, feeling suddenly limp in his arms.

"This is really going to happen," she said softly, and felt him grin where his face rested against her cheek. He pressed a kiss to her temple.

"It really is," he agreed, his voice thick with poorly contained joy.

Jo smiled.

* * *

Two hours later, Zoe and Daniel had managed to transform about half of the baby's room to a blinding white, the other half remaining a jarring beige. About an hour in, Zoe had returned to the kitchen for their take-out and found Jo and Zane entangled, fast asleep, on one of the couches in the living room, their uneaten dinners languishing on the coffee table in front of them.

There had only been one conceivable response: Zoe had whipped out her phone and taken a picture, before calling Daniel in.

"Look," she had whispered, gesturing at the couple still fast asleep. "Aren't they adorable?" She cocked her head and continued. "If I had known they'd be like this, I would have pestered Jo about dating him _ages_ ago." Daniel, in response, merely crossed his arms over his chest and given the couple his typical inscrutable look before turning his attention back to the question of dinner.

"Did you heat up the soup?" He asked. Zoe frowned. She just didn't _get_ him.

"No," she said, feeling unreasonably annoyed by his disinterest. "I didn't want to wake them up." He glanced dismissively at his sister.

"She'll fall back asleep," he said, crossing the room to open the fridge. "She hasn't been out of the Rangers _that_ long." Not really seeing the connection between the two, Zoe followed him into the kitchen.

"Killjoy," she muttered. Daniel either didn't hear her, or chose to ignore her.

Now, an hour later, Zoe slumped onto the floor from her knees and sighed. Her back was starting to ache, and she'd switched the brush from hand to hand more times than she could count. She shook an arm experimentally.

"This isn't really what I'd expected," she said mournfully. Daniel gave her a wry look.

"Were you expecting more dancing to the radio and playful, cinematic paint fights?" He asked, dryly. Zoe narrowed her eyes at him.

"Maybe I was," she said, annoyed. He looked more than a little amused.

"You've, ah, got a little - " He gestured at his own cheek, miming with wiping motions.

"_Paint_?" Zoe said, icily, and rubbed at the spot in question, which really only served to turn the dot of paint into a white streak.

"Well... yeah. Um, you probably shouldn't - I mean - there's more now." Zoe glared at him. _Cinematic paint fights, my ass. _Then she smirked.

_Splat._

"_Seriously?_" Daniel protested, the entire right side of his jaw now decorated in a delicate spray of tiny white dots where she'd flicked the thick hairs of the brush at him. Zoe batted her long, dark eyelashes at him.

"Now we match," she said, her voice saccharine-sweet. He stared at her, his mouth hanging slightly agape. It was a good look on him, Zoe decided - at least, until he snapped the wrist holding his paintbrush at her, sending a streak of paint across her overalls, Jackson Pollock-style. Zoe looked at him, then her paintbrush.

She lunged.

And so it was that Jo and Zane awoke, about five minutes later, to shrieks of laughter (Zoe's) and Daniel's typical forbidding expression made somewhat _less_ forbidding by a pair of eyebrows painted a delicate, snowy white.

Jo, for her part, just stared.

"Seriously?" She said, when she finally found her voice. "What are you? Five?" She addressed her brother, whose expression was frankly sheepish and a bit goofy.

"Um," he said eloquently, though his attempts at dignity were not at all assisted by the fluffy white dashes that were his eyebrows. "So. I think the room should be done in… maybe two days?" Behind him, Zoe snorted softly as she tried to hold in a stray giggle. Daniel bit his lip and closed his eyes, struggling to hold in his own laughter.

When he opened them again, Jo was still staring at him. Her lips twitched as if she were holding back a smile.

"Ah," she said. "Well then. By all means," she waved expansively at the white and beige walls, "carry on." She turned and walked out of the room, followed by Zane. It wasn't until they were both out of sight that the sound of Jo's laughter drifted back to the two painters.

Daniel sighed.

* * *

Disclaimer: Eureka - not mine. The use of 'your worship' inspired by Star Wars, though I feel like it would be a stretch for them to sue over it. Finally, and most amusingly, I'd like to note that the phrase "Don't you look at me in that tone of voice" was actually a line, of Zane's, on Eureka, and I totally wrote it in without remembering where it came from. So I guess he must be in character.

A/N: One more chapter, delicious friends. (Have you been playing Echo Bazaar? You should. Felicia Day told me so.) Therefore, this is the time at which I must exhort my lurkers (you and I both know you are there) to speak up so I know who's actually reading - the fandom is in a precarious position at the moment, and I would really like to know whether there will be readers if I write **A SEQUEL**.

That's right, **A SEQUEL. **Are you attending to my words yet, delicious friends?

Really though, if readership is going to evaporate the minute the last episode closes, it might not be worth it. So speak up. I'm leaning towards writing the sequel, but between certain missteps with Jo and Zane onscreen and the imminent end of new episodes, I'm a little worried that nobody would show up to read it.

I think that covers it! Until next chapter!


	21. Chapter 21

Everything Is Illuminated

Café Diem was decked out in so much green it looked as if Ireland had exploded inside. Zane pulled the door open, eyebrows shooting so high that they almost reached his hairline at the sight of Vincent dressed as a leprechaun, complete with red hair dye. St. Patrick's Day, of course. Zane grinned as he held the door for Jo, stepping aside to accommodate her protruding stomach. Jo did not share his enthusiasm.

"Really, Vincent?" She asked, exasperated. Vincent was unabashed.

"There's no reason we shouldn't celebrate in style, Jo," he said, flitting around her like an overexcited butterfly. "Here, let me help you to a table." Zane winced, anticipating mutiny. She'd handled the first week of maternity leave with aplomb, but the closer they were to her due date the greater her outrage at his 'coddling' had become.

"Actually, Vincent, I'd much rather take the sofa if that's alright…" Jo requested, trailing off. She reached a hand behind her to massage the small of her back, wincing. Vincent shooed a couple off the couch at the back of the café, gesturing for Jo to take a seat. Zane followed, a wry expression dancing across his face.

"And what'll it be for the expecting couple?" Vincent all but cooed, and Zane couldn't help but glance at Jo, wondering how much longer this could go on without her snapping and going for the taser, but the expression on her face was entirely distracted – Zane suspected she hadn't registered the question at all.

"Jo? Food?" He prompted her, and she snapped her head up.

"Oh! Right… you know, I think I'll just have a fruit salad and a smoothie." She requested quickly. Vincent nodded and turned to Zane, looking expectant. Zane switched his focus momentarily, just long enough to order a pastrami melt before turning his attention back to Jo, who was now resting her head against the back of the sofa, eyes closed.

"Jo-Jo," he said quietly, so none of their neighbors overheard, and nudged her. "Would you rather we get it to go?"

"No," she murmured, not opening her eyes. "I can't possibly stand another minute sitting around in that house." Zane eyed her, faintly concerned by her exhaustion. It was true that in the past month she'd been tiring more easily than either of them was used to, but she usually made it past noon before needing a nap.

Vincent reappeared with their meals promptly and Jo pried her eyes open to receive the bowl of fruit salad, which she rested unceremoniously on her sizeable baby bump, the coffee table being roughly inaccessible over her stomach. She looked down at her stomach and groaned.

"I look like a beached whale," she scowled. "I've seen tanks that were easier to maneuver." Zane hid a smile in his pastrami melt. Jo sighed and began picking at her fruit salad. Zane raised his eyebrows as she employed her typical seek-and-destroy approach to the kiwis and pineapples.

"You know, Vincent would probably just give you kiwi and pineapple if you asked nicely." She frowned at him absently.

"But then I would miss the watermelon and cantaloupe," Zane opened his mouth to reply, and then thought better of it.

Jo paused suddenly and glanced down, looking distracted. Delicately, she placed her fruit salad on the nearest flat surface – which turned out to be Zane's thigh – and used her arm as leverage to push herself onto her feet. Zane hastily thrust the plates onto the coffee table and leaned over to help her, but she waved him off.

"I'm fine," she said impatiently. "I just need to use the restroom." She crossed the room, navigating carefully between tables until she vanished into the hallway. Zane, shaking his head at the inherently stubborn nature of the woman he loved, turned back to his sandwich.

About fifteen minutes later, Zane, long since having finished his sandwich, was beginning to wonder if he should be going after her. Before he could begin stacking plates, however, Jo reappeared in the café, her face unreadable. She spared only a cursory glance for her meal.

"Let's take this home," she suggested. Zane cocked his head at her meaningfully, now completely puzzled, but she ignored him. With a sigh and a half shrug – sometimes he wondered if he'd ever understand what went on in her head – he began gathering the food and the plates, bringing them to Vincent for disposal and requesting a container for the fruit salad. To his credit, Vincent didn't bat an eye – if he was offended by the apparent rejection of his salad, he managed to keep it to himself, rather than ruffle the feathers of an already irritable pregnant woman.

Zane commandeered the keys from his inscrutable girlfriend, surprised that she'd permitted him to do so, and slid into the driver's seat of her car. Jo opened the door to the passenger side while Zane rummaged around in the front, but paused for a moment, sucking in a deep breath, holding it for a moment before letting it out in a gusty sigh and carefully maneuvering her way into the seat, closing the door behind her a little more forcefully than usual. From his spot beside her Zane gave her a quizzical look, but she smiled back at him, her eyes crinkling at the corners, and he brushed off his vague sense of unease as simple paranoia.

* * *

Back at the house, Jo left Zane at the door and made a beeline for the bedroom, stripping out of her clothes and pulling on a pajama set as soon as she stepped through the door. She sank into the bed, bracing her lately unwieldy body with her arms and dragging her exhausted legs up after her. She pulled the covers over her and drifted off, one arm wrapped protectively around her stomach.

"Jo? Your brother was going to come by around…" Zane reached the doorway and trailed off as he caught sight of her, curled around the bulge in her abdomen and fast asleep. "Huh." He muttered, but stepped away, not wanting to wake her up. He knew she could use the sleep. He shut the bedroom door softly and went to call Daniel. Behind him, Jo winced in her sleep and wrapped herself more tightly around her stomach.

Zane was sitting on the couch, television set playing low in the background, when Jo reemerged from the bedroom, strain written on her face. The moment Zane got a good look at her expression, he realized immediately that his sense of trouble brewing earlier had been justified after all. It wasn't a particularly comforting thought.

"Jo? Is everything alright?" He jumped to his feet. Her responding smile was lacking in enthusiasm. Zane licked his lips nervously, eying her.

"Zane, I – " she broke off suddenly, knuckles going white with the strength of her grip on the doorframe. She took a deep breath. "I think we need to go to GD." Zane frowned at her, not quite grasping what had put this look on her face.

"Jo, you're already on maternity leave – you're really not supposed to be in GD at all – did Carter call?" He questioned, striding over to her.

"_Zane_," she said, with deliberate calm, "I've _gone into labor._" He froze, eyes darting between her face and the swell of her abdomen.

"Now?" He asked, his voice breaking on the word like it hadn't done since he was thirteen. She gave him a long-suffering look.

"Did you have a better time in mind?" She asked him pointedly.

"Right! Right, I'll get the car, and the keys, first the keys, and then we can, ah, go…" He babbled as he flailed around looking for his keys. Jo grabbed them off the kitchen counter.

"Car. Now." She said threateningly. Zane stared at her.

"You can't drive while you're in labor!" He protested. Jo rolled her eyes, fed up, and threw the keys at his head. Her aim was perfect, as usual, and the keys bounced off his forehead and onto the floor with what Jo judged to be an obnoxiously cheery jingle. She managed to stride to the door, purposefully, in spite of her bulk. She paused in the door frame to look back at Zane, who was frozen by the coffee table. contraction.

"_Move_!" She hissed at him, which finally, mercifully, spurred him into action.

* * *

The drive to GD was simultaneously the longest and the shortest of Jo's life. Zane was speeding the whole way there, and Jo was finding it increasingly hard to muster the will to make him slow down. Her hands were clenched around the leather seat, knuckles whitening with another contraction. She felt herself holding her breath, as if by _not _breathing she could ameliorate the pain. Jo was pathetically grateful that Carter and Andy had yet to make an appearance – they would be obliged to pull her and Zane over, and though she was certain they would let them go, she didn't think she could bear Andy's programmed concern or Carter's poorly hidden worry. Zane's outright panic was more than enough to contend with.

"Zane," she said through gritted teeth. "Remember how you need to breathe?" It was one thing for _her _to be holding her breath, but speeding would do them less than zero good if Zane passed out from a lack of oxygen. He cast a glance at her, her chest heaving in an effort to catch her breath, and his face went white.

"You're not having her _here_, right? We're not going to be those people who have their baby in the middle of the road?" The pitch of his voice went high with panic. If he didn't kill them both by driving into a tree while staring at her, she might just off them herself. Surely, at this point, it would be a mercy killing. That was when something dawned on her.

"What do you mean, _her_? Why did you say _her_? Why not _it_?" She saw him stiffen with alarm, feeding her growing suspicion. Suddenly something was more interesting than that disconcerting feeling that her internal organs were about to be squeezed out like so much toothpaste.

Well, almost.

Zane licked his lips nervously.

"I didn't mean _she,_ she," he protested. "I just… didn't want to call our baby an it." She could tell by the way that his eyes were suddenly fixated on the road that he was trying to avoid meeting her gaze.

"You seemed awfully certain about that _she._" Jo said pointedly. There was a long silence, and another contraction hit like a wave. Jo clenched her teeth and contracted her muscles and tried to ignore it, fixing her eyes on Zane instead.

"You found out the baby's sex without me." Jo said flatly. More silence. "How?" She growled. He was so dead.

"…you probably don't want to know." He admitted. Jo exhaled sharply as she was surprised by another contraction, sooner than she'd anticipated it. They'd become both stronger, and closer together.

Jo exhaled sharply, as another contraction began to hit. She clenched her teeth and tightened her muscles but this one was longer, stronger, harder. As much as she wanted to glare at Zane, she couldn't focus on anything but the wave of pain washing over her until finally it slowed. For a moment, she dropped her head back against the seat, just to ameliorate the ugly tension that was building up at the base of her neck. Finally she spoke.

"Zane," she said, sweetly. "When Allison finds out you broke into her computer system – _and she will find out_ – " the additional, _because I will be seeing to it, personally,_ remained unspoken though heavily implied, " – she is going to eviscerate you. And use your intestines for party streamers. _And I will laugh._"

Oddly enough, this seemed to steady Zane's hands on the steering wheel. He cast a quick glance at her, bed hair and all, and his lips curled into that familiar smirk.

"You look beautiful, Jo-Jo." He said.

Jo tossed a dime at his head.

* * *

It took longer than Zane would have liked for them to reach the infirmary, though they probably made it there in record time. When they finally arrived, Allison was waiting for them at the infirmary door, looking anxious.

"Jo! I'm so glad you're here – you could have come sooner, you know," Allison scolded. "I started to worry when I didn't hear from you after noon." Zane threw Jo an accusatory glance, and she had the grace to look abashed.

"Well… they really weren't _that _bad until just before we left," she said to him, defending herself weakly. "I didn't want you to panic." She pushed away from Zane to cross her arms across her chest accusingly. "Which, by the way, you _did_." Allison cut in smoothly.

"Let's get you somewhere more private," she suggested, which was when Jo cried out and grabbed at Zane, her hands clenching his arm tightly. He clamped his mouth shut, holding back his own yelp of pain.

"That would be good," Jo finally managed to gasp out. Zane rubbed a hand down her back in an ineffectual attempt to soothe, as Allison swept into action. She directed Jo to a nearby cot and grabbed a hospital gown from a nearby doctor, which she tossed to Jo before tugging the screen surrounding her closed. Allison glanced at Zane, tipping her head to indicate the area behind the curtain.

"You may want to give her a hand," she suggested. "She's bound to have another – " A stifled moan from behind the curtain stopped her short, and Zane gave a quick look of comprehension to Allison before he dashed behind the curtain. Allison pulled out her phone, dialing quickly.

Behind the curtains, Jo was half-on, half-off the mattress, clinging to the frame of the bed. The hospital gown was abandoned next to her. As he watched, Jo let out a deep, slow breath and opened her eyes.

"Hey," she said, sounding weary. He picked up the hospital gown and offered it to her tentatively. She didn't take it, but instead lifted her arms and gave him a meaningful look.

"Oh," he said, startled, and stepped forward. It was strange, he reflected, as he tugged the shirt awkwardly over her head, to be undressing her for more G-rated purposes. He reassessed that thought as Jo's whole body tensed for another contraction. _R-rated. This is probably going to be R-rated._ She smacked his hand away from her, where he had been unbuttoning her pants, just managing to shake her head before the contraction hit with full force. Zane realized her legs were about to give out beneath her just seconds before it happened. He only barely managed to get his arms around her in time.

When the contraction passed, they were both half on the floor. Jo was gulping in air greedily. Zane just looked at her.

"I think we'd better get you onto the bed," he said.

* * *

Between the two of them, and between contractions, Zane and Jo managed to wrestle the maternity pants off of her legs. The hospital gown was more of an issue – Zane had to prop her up to get it secured properly. Zane seemed to think it was important, though Jo's patience with the whole debacle was wearing rapidly thin. It seemed more than a little like false modesty when everyone else was going to get front row seats to her – The next contraction hit before Jo could finish the thought, and she found herself bellowing like a bull being branded, her fingers digging into the muscles of Zane's arm. He rubbed his arm with a wince.

"I think you may have bruised straight down to the bone." He commented ruefully. Jo gave him a baleful look.

"You poor thing, that must have been terribly painful for you," she said flatly. "Want me to kiss it better?" Zane looked as if he'd like to defend himself, but he clearly thought better of it. Instead, he went to get Allison. Jo flopped back against the pillow and shut her eyes –

"Jo," Allison said. Jo opened her eyes to see Allison at the end of her bed, lips pursed.

"What?" Jo asked, resigned.

"If you could just – " Allison gestured at her legs, and Jo slid them up obediently. Allison took a quick look and frowned.

"I don't think we're going to have time to arrange a private room," she said, regretful but firm. "If I move now, we can use the epidural – " Jo started shaking her head violently the moment she saw the needle in Allison's hand.

"Jo, this should dull the pain," she said, but Jo shook her head swiftly.

"No, no needles," she insisted. "I hate needles." Allison gave her a doubtful look.

"Jo, are you sure?" She asked.

"I've been shot before," she reminded Allison. "How much worse could it get?" Allison pursed her lips, but Jo missed whatever it was she said next in the face of an oncoming contraction.

This time, she clutched at the bed rather than Zane, and he watched guiltily. When the contraction eased off and she released the bed, Zane captured her hand with his, rubbing a thumb soothingly over the back.

"Some things are worth the pain," he conceded, smiling at her apologetically. Jo gave him a tight smile in return, but before she could say anything further, Zoe came barreling through the curtain.

"Jo!" She panted. "I came as soon as I heard – I missed Dad's call – he sends his best, by the way, should be by later – how far along are you?" She asked. Allison glanced at Zoe and smiled.

"You're not too late," she assured her, and turned her attention back to Jo. "A little while longer and it'll be time for you to push." Zoe beamed; Jo mustered up a tense smile.

"Just say the word, Allison," she said. Almost as soon as she had, she found herself tensing once more. The contraction hit harder and faster than Jo expected, catching her by surprise. She gave up on all pretense of restraint. Beside her, Zane flinched at the sheer decibel level of her shouts.

"Will you keep it _down_?" Came an irritable voice from across the room, stunning them all into temporary silence. Allison closed her eyes and sighed with annoyance.

"Larry," she stated simply. "He slipped on a wet floor earlier and – " But she was cut off by none other than Jo.

"Larry!" She howled back, even as she braced herself again for the start of the next contraction. Zane's eyebrows shot up – he hadn't heard her so outright enraged since the incident with the RSS device. "I'd like to see you try to push something the size of a watermelon out of your – " she cut herself off with a shout of pain, which subsided into gasps for air. Stray strands of her hair were sticking to her forehead with sweat, and her hazel eyes were glittering with murderous intent. Larry, made foolishly brave by Jo's perceived weakness, piped up from behind the curtain.

"Suck it up!" He told her. Heavily pregnant and well into labor as she was, Jo lunged for the gun she'd deposited with her clothes on the chair next to her bed.

"Jo!" Three voices chorused in panic, no doubt at all in their minds that she could hit Larry, curtain or not. Zane placed a placating hand on her shoulder.

"Jo, you don't really want to raise this baby from jail, do you?" He asked her carefully. Jo glared at him but put her gun back on the table. Zoe swiftly stepped in to remove it from arm's length.

"I only would've winged him," Jo muttered resentfully. Zane grimaced.

"I doubt the DOD would've taken that into…" but he trailed off as Jo's whole body tensed up for the next round. When it ended, Jo was left limp, gasping for breath.

"Allison," she asked hopefully, "is it time to push yet?" Allison gave her a regretful shake of her head.

"Just a little longer," she promised. "I know it hurts." Jo didn't even have the extra strength necessary to protest. She nodded mutely, screwing her eyes shut as another contraction started, right on the heels of the last. She had only barely sucked in air when the next contraction hit, and then another. Jo panted for breath, hair plastered to her forehead. Zane was hovering over her anxiously, and Jo was suddenly, vividly certain that it was time for this to be _over with_.

"Allison, so help me God, if you don't let me push _right now _– " she managed to grit out through her teeth, between contractions. Allison nodded firmly.

"When the next contraction comes – go ahead and push," she instructed her. Jo managed to spare a strained smile for Zane, who smiled back, trying not to yelp as her hand tightened around his. She took a deep breath as the next contraction began.

"Go on, Jo, push!" Allison said sharply. Jo braced herself and _pushed_, her breath tearing out of her in a yowl of pain, every muscle in her body as taut as a bowstring, and – there was an audible _snap_, and Zane gasped sharply, his whole body freezing up. His eyes were clenched shut with pain. When Jo finally released her vise-like grip on his fingers, he withdrew his hand slowly. Jo frowned at him.

"Zane, what's – " He cut her off.

"I think my fingers may be broken," he said, and flexed them experimentally, making himself gasp with pain once more. "Definitely broken." He concluded. Jo blinked at him slowly, only half-comprehending.

"Zane, I'm so – " Jo's words morphed into an incoherent shout with the onset of the next contraction, as she clutched helplessly at the mattress and sheets beneath her. The next few minutes were a blur of pain and tears and _ohgodohgodohgod –_

For a moment, time itself seemed to stop, and then one, shrill wail split the air.

* * *

Jo flopped back against her pillow, virtually boneless. She took deep, gulping breaths, and brushed back the strands of hair now plastered to her damp forehead with a shaky hand.

Across the room, Allison finished cleaning the still wailing baby and wrapped it in a blanket with practiced ease. She bounced it for a moment or two, as the wails diminished to silence, before handing it to Zoe. Zane's attention remained fixed on Jo, who was still trying to get her breathing back to normal.

"Hey," he said softly, running his thumb over the back of the hand she had loosened where it was wrapped around his, ignoring the sharp pain it elicited from what he was now sure were broken fingers. "You did it." Jo gave him a tired smile.

"I can't believe it's over," she murmured. Zoe approached, carefully holding the now-quieted baby wrapped in a soft blanket. Jo and Zane broke their gaze, Jo releasing Zane's hand, and turned their attention to Zoe, who was grinning at the display of affection between her friends. It was hard to believe Jo had ever worried about the way this would impact their relationship.

"Jo," Zoe said, unable to contain her excitement. "I'd like you to meet your daughter."

"Oh, we've met alright," Jo said wryly, rubbing her abdomen. "She has an impressive front kick, as I recall." But Jo's breath caught in her throat as Zoe lowered the cloth-swaddled bundle to her level. Zane, too, was uncharacteristically quiet.

"You know how to hold her, right?" Zoe asked carefully. Jo nodded mutely, remembering the times she'd spent with Jenna in the last year. Zoe leaned in and offered the tiny bundle to Jo, who handled her with the same caution and delicacy she'd once used to diffuse bombs. Pulling back the soft blanket, Jo stared, transfixed, at her daughter's face.

"Oh," she exhaled softly, feeling tears spring to her eyes. With the utmost care, Jo shifted the baby until her head was resting in the crook of her arm, and Jo reached out a cautious finger to stroke the tiny face. Her daughter's small reddened face crinkled in response, turning towards her hand. Then her little eyes opened, and Jo caught her breath at the first sight of her gray-blue eyes.

"Zane," she whispered, turning her head to find him peering over her shoulder at their daughter. She smiled. "She has your eyes."

"Most babies are born with blue eyes, actually," Allison broke in quietly, but Jo ignored her. Zane pressed a fervent kiss to Jo's forehead.

"She's perfect, Jo," he said, voice rough with emotion.

"I was thinking," Jo said slowly, her eyes still glued to the tiny bundle. "Claire?" She asked nervously, tearing her eyes away with difficulty to look at Zane. "After your grandmother," she added, though it was probably obvious. Zane stared at her, speechless, and Jo turned a little pink.

"We don't have to," she said hurriedly. "I just thought – " Zane cut her off.

"Claire," he said, his eyes warm with gratitude. He looked back down at the baby – at Claire - and reached a hand out to brush a finger across the top of her head, marveling how tiny she was in comparison. "Claire Donovan," he said, glancing at Jo for confirmation. She merely smiled and raised her arms, proffering the tiny bundle.

"Do you want to hold her?" Jo asked. Zane gave her a look that was half-terrified, half-enthralled. He wet his lips nervously and looked up at Allison, who was standing unobtrusively to one side, monitoring the small family.

"Can I?" He addressed her, and she moved to his side.

"Hold out your arms like this," she demonstrated patiently, "and remember to support the head." Allison lifted Claire carefully from Jo's arms and placed her in Zane's. He could feel his heart pounding as she pulled away and the full six pounds and eleven ounces of baby rested in his arms.

"Hello there," Zane breathed.

"Hey Carter," he heard Jo say, as if from a distance, and he managed to tear his eyes away to turn his head. The sheriff stood at the corner of the curtained room, though his daughter was nowhere to be seen.

"Carter," Zane acknowledged, his voice a bit rough. He winced as Claire shifted in his arms and jarred his exceptionally tender fingers. Carter grinned.

"You going to introduce me?" He asked. Zane gave him what he was sure was a somewhat dopey smile.

"Jack Carter - Claire Donovan." He said. Carter stepped closer.

"May I?" He asked, gesturing to the newborn. Zane hesitated momentarily, or at least until his fingers gave another meaningful twinge. He nodded, and Carter carefully lifted the tiny bundle from Zane's arms. Allison offered Carter a chair, and Zane resumed his seat by Jo.

"Well, hello Claire Donovan," Carter all but cooed as Allison began fussing over Zane's increasingly swollen fingers. "Welcome to Eureka," he said, shaking her tiny hand with his index finger. Jo watched with tired pleasure as her daughter squeaked and kicked her feet, loosening her swaddling, only to bark out a startled laugh when Claire landed a solid kick on Carter's solar plexus, making his eyes widen as she knocked the breath right out of him.

"Allison," Jo said quickly, alerting the other woman to Carter's suddenly weakened state.

"M'okay," he gasped. "Got her." He managed to drag in another breath. Reassured, Allison watched with amusement written on her face. "She's gonna be – a soccer player," he rasped.

"I told you she had a good front kick," Jo grinned, relaxing back against her pillows. Zoe chose that moment to reappear, with Daniel in tow.

"Hey, big sis," Daniel stood at the foot of her bed, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. Jo forced her eyes back open and tried to push herself back into a sitting position, but winced and changed her mind. She gave Daniel a tired smile.

"Hey, Danny," she said.

"I hear I have a niece." His eyes strayed across the room, where Zoe was now leaning over Carter's shoulder to look at the baby. "How are you feeling?" He asked. Jo chuckled softly, not unaware of the way the jostling irritated her aching body.

"Like a train hit me," she told him. "But it's worth it."

"Yeah?" Daniel asked, eying Claire with trepidation. Jo smiled brilliantly, her eyes warm and soft as she watched the tiny form of her daughter.

"I wouldn't change a thing."

* * *

When the room finally cleared out, Allison left the new family alone together with a gentle smile. Jo had Claire cradled in her arms, though she looked exhausted. Her expression was equal parts awe and breathless exhilaration as she watched the tiny baby sleep.

"She's so small," she said, sounding faintly surprised. She ran a finger down Claire's cheek and watched, all fascination, as the baby turned her head towards the sensation reflexively.

Zane felt his chest constrict with the strength of his emotions as he watched the two most important people in his world.

"Marry me," he said, surprising himself, but he didn't take the words back. Jo's eyes darted to his, wide with shock, and Zane felt his resolve grow. "I don't - I don't have the big elaborate plan. No writing in the sky. But you already have my ring - " he could see the gold chain where it hung around her neck " - and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want you to wake me up too early in the mornings and keep me up too late at night and I want you to throw olives at me just because you can. And yes, I want to raise our baby girl with you." Jo's eyes were huge.

"Zane," she breathed. Her eyes darted back to Claire, unable to hold his gaze. She was frozen, again – she could feel it yawning beneath her, that dark terrifying void that had stopped her short the first time he'd asked this question, in a completely different time and place. A primal terror. _This is it._ Then -

"I could go down on one knee," he offered, and Jo's eyes snapped back to his face.

_Oh. _

It was written there, all of it, everything for her to see. Hope. Fear. Faith. Trust. _Love._ His face was lit with it. And more - for just that one moment, Jo could see it all: kids, grandkids, lazy summer days on the shore by the cabin, sticky pancake breakfasts that required baths and left the kitchen floor slippery with grease. Quiet nights by the fire with the only man she'd ever really _needed_. And, yes, an errant olive or two.

"Jo?"

It was beautiful. It could be hers.

It was everything she'd ever wanted.

"Yes," Jo said, finally. "Yes."

* * *

Disclaimer: Eureka isn't mine.

A/N: Well! Here concludes _Everything Is Illuminated_. Stay tuned for the **SEQUEL**, which (for the curious) will be a rewrite of Season 4.5, set in the _Everything Is Illuminated _'verse. Don't forget to sign up for author alerts if you're planning on reading the aforementioned sequel ;)

Thanks for reading!


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